Star Fox: The Mercenary War
by Foxmerc
Summary: When a mysterious figure hijacks Lylat's air waves and broadcasts a magnificent award for the capture or death of Fox McCloud, Fox discovers his true friends in the ensuing conflicts between mercenary groups. Chapter 18 up!
1. Abrupt Awakening

[Author's Note: First of all, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. To those who have read my other stories, this is in no way related to those. The characters and the world are stand-alone, like the relation to the SNES StarFox and the N64 StarFox. Things that happened in my other stories did not happen here. However, for those who want more of Gage Birse, he can be found also in Vangaurd. Enjoy!]

UPDATE 2011: This site has erased certain usages of the dash symbol for some reason. I can't remember how many times I used them as scene change breakers in this story, but be warned that there may be a couple sudden scene changes without any symbol. The story should still be perfectly readable until I can devote the time to a full edit to fix this

**Star Fox: The Mercenary War**

CHAPTER 1  
Abrupt Awakening  
_Great Fox  
0834 hours_

An asteroid belt might not make it into a travel agency's top ten vacation spots, but for me, there was no other place in black Lylat space that would have rather been. Ships steered clear of it, the rocks were hardly a threat in the outskirts, and it gave me something to look at during those long days by myself. Communication signals had a hard time with all the interference, so the solitude was complete and comforting. Only one channel was strong enough to get in and override my "answering machine" which I kept on as my constant "leave me alone" to the universe. And it chose a weary morning to ring. Gut instinct told me not to answer. I have to learn to listen to my gut more often, and not just around dinnertime.

"Fox, we have a little problem."

Nothing was ever little with Pepper. It wasn't what I wanted to hear first thing in the morning, and the little voice that warned me not to answer stuck its mental tongue out at me. I cleared my throat, realizing I hadn't actually spoken to anyone besides ROB for almost a week, and said, "We're not open for business. We stagger vacation time, and I got stuck with the Great Fox until this weekend."

The old dog's head shook on the viewscreen. "I don't need you for anything, don't worry. There was a robbery last night at a bank in outside Corneria City. It was the third one this month in this city alone. The police think they were linked, given the methods. Very professional, too."

"So let them handle it," I said, wishing an asteroid would crash into the Great Fox's comm array. "I'm not a detective. Why's the army involved?"

"Because of this." Pepper held up a charred circle about the size of his thumb. "Recognize it?"

I squinted closer and my breath caught in my throat. The little emblem was like a double espresso, pulling me fully awake. "Venom?"

"It was the seal on the explosives used to blow the safe...the seal of the Venomian Army." He lowered it. "It's been six years since the war ended with Andross' death. The last cells of resistance disappeared a long time ago. We don't know what it means, but I figured I'd give you a heads-up. Keep alert out there. It's probably just a few bitter soldiers looking to annoy Corneria. We have the Dagger team checking it out, so I'll keep you updated."

I couldn't suppress a little grin as I sat back. "Dagger, eh? How's the esteemed Captain Gage Birse doing these days?"

Pepper chuckled. "He was more grateful for the news than you are. The team's been idle, and nothing is more detrimental to the special forces than idleness."

"Boredom is a luxury."

I was never a superstitious guy, but I'd be willing to bet that I hexed the hell out of myself with that comment.

\

_Three days later  
Great Fox  
1325 hours_

_\_

Next I heard of the General was in a state that I really hate seeing him in: panicked. A few days later, I spent the morning in the hangar checking my Arwing and changing out the cells from a lengthy jaunt I treated myself to the day before. To rest after the mundane work, I spent an hour or so "testing" the weapons in our armory. Nothing like blowing silhouettes to pieces to iron out the nerves. When many had died gruesome deaths, I gave in to my gut (the hungry part this time) and headed to the galley. That was when I heard the rapid beeps and stopped in my tracks. Two private-line calls in under a week spelled nothing but trouble.

I figured it was just an update on the little investigation, so I ignored it. News could wait. But it rang again. And again. The fifth time, I knew something was wrong. Fearing something had happened to one of the team, I jogged to the bridge and slapped the receiver. All at once, I knew it was going to be a bad day. Vacation was over.

"Fox!" Pepper gasped, relieved. His wide eyes bore into me, their fear making my nerves itch. "You've heard? Listen, I'm doing everything in my power to track that signal, but nothing's come of it. The generals are convening to take an official stance for the press, but—"

"Whoa, whoa." I held my hands up. "What are you talking about? What signal?"

Pepper swallowed and hesitated. "Turn on your screen. The news. I have to meet with the generals. I'll contact you later. Please, be careful."

Before I could ask anything else, the screen went blank. I bit my lower lip thoughtfully and headed to the recreation room. My finger hovered by the on button as if it had a mind of its own. A very nervous one. Finally, I pushed it and flipped to the Corneria City news channel just in time to see a female raccoon speaking rapidly, looking almost as frazzled as Pepper.

"—reports that the signal was in fact from a private source. Authorities have been alerted and the military has yet to respond to reporters' questions about their stance. Mercenary pilot Fox McCloud of StarFox is also unavailable for questioning. For those just joining us, only an hour ago, all television and communication signals in the Lylat system were hijacked at once and displayed a message from an unknown individual from an unknown source. Again, we have the recording."

The image cut to a nearly black screen with a figure standing in darkness. Identification was impossible. The one thing perfectly visible was the number displayed at the bottom of the screen. I had never seen so many zeroes. Before I could even count them, the male voice spoke.

"To the good citizens of the Lylat system, I thank you for your attention. I am here with an offer unlike any in history. This number you see before you is the worth of one man to me: five hundred billion credits. It is the product of years of collection, and it has no use to me. I do not want it. Therefore, I will hand it all over to the person or persons that bring me the one thing I do want: Fox McCloud."

I stared with a dropped jaw as my own mug appeared on the screen. As if anyone needed a picture to know who I was. It was soon replaced by another light in the dark room that illuminated a pile of cash and gold the size of the Landmaster.

"Let there be no doubts that I have this money. As a bonus, should you bring me McCloud alive, I will let you keep his Arwing as a trophy. The triumphant need not worry about contacting me. I will come to you. This offer only comes once, and it is open to anyone. Anyone." With the inflection of the repeated word, I could almost see a little smirk on the blackened face. I knew who he was talking to there. Peppy. Slippy. Falco. Bill. Pepper. Hell, even ROB.

"Thank you for your time, Lylat. I look forward to rewarding the victor."

The screen flashed off and the raccoon again spoke. "We have received reports from our stations on every planet with the same result: this message was aired to every viewscreen and radio without discrimination. The police and military have issued a warning against response to the message, but they have been vague in their position on protecting McCloud. We have yet to—"

I shut the screen off and stared at the blackness for a good minute. It made no sense. A good amount of people hated me, but they were either dead, in jail, or rotting in a cave on Venom. It had been so long since a real problem, it took my motor skills some time to chug up. When I finally suppressed the fire of confusion, shock, and fear in my mind, I became aware of the comm ringing like mad. With a few deep breaths and reminding myself that I had handled worse and to get it together, dammit, I strode to the phone and answered. It was good to see a friendly face, even if it was contorted in fear.

"Fox?" Peppy's face filled the screen. I could hear the faint voices of Slippy and Falco behind him, and he turned to shush them before continuing. "We just saw. Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Just surprised."

"Keep security at full. We all met up and we're heading back today. It shouldn't take us too—"

"No!" I said almost involuntarily. The more I thought about it, the more I realized why I said it. "Stay there. The video said he just wanted me."

Peppy looked back at me as if I'd grown a second head. I knew he would object, but I held my ground. "Fox, are you crazy? That video was shown on every screen in the galaxy. Every mercenary...forget that, every person who even knows how to fire a gun will be after you."

"I know. That's why you have to stay there. I'll head to Corneria and see Pepper. No mercenary would be crazy enough to attack a military base."

He didn't seem happy with the answer, and the angered voiced behind him told me Falco and Slippy wanted to put their two cents in also. Peppy looked at me with those droopy eyes the way he always did during the tough decisions but, like every other time, he finally nodded. "You have this number. Call when you get there."

I nodded and cut the connection before my flushed face could show through my fur. There was another reason I blurted out the "no." That damn message spooked me worse than I thought. I knew in my heart that none of the team would ever turn me in, but at that moment, I could only think of being alone. I even hesitated calling ROB. Only god and Slippy know how he thinks.

"Yes, sir?" he answered in a thankful monotone.

"I'm going to Corneria. Keep security at full shoot anything that gets within a mile of the Great Fox if it doesn't have proper clearance."

"Yes, sir."

I strapped on my pistol belt, but still felt a bit naked as I headed to the hangar. Snatching an SXR82 assault rifle and a few energy mags from the armory made me feel a bit better. I would rather have just driven the Landmaster up to the base's door, but I figured that might piss the city off a little. I don't usually carry the big guns around, but an old rule I learned to follow: If you don't know what to expect, bring enough to kill anything.

I tossed the rifle behind the seat of my Arwing and patted the shined metal, reminded of its offering as a "trophy." I scoffed and climbed in. I vowed to give a little piece of the Arwing to whoever made the message; a smart bomb up the ass.

_Cornerian Army HQ, Corneria City  
1656 hours_

"What?"

I knew it had to be a dream at that point. Only in a dream could a mysterious figure offer an entire galaxy billions of dollars for my death or capture. Only in a dream could I be fighting against every mercenary and gun for hire in the universe. And only in a goddamn dream could I meet with the very people I saved and be denied protection from the aforementioned assholes.

"Fox, please." Pepper raised his hands over his desk and gently motioned for me to sit down. I'd have none of it. "I tried—"

"You shouldn't even have to try!" I shouted back. I pounded my fists on his desk, making the items on it rattle. "Where was I when this very damn base was under attack? Where was I when your fleets were stuck? You think the first thing I thought of after hearing distress calls was the money?"

"Fox—"

"Now I'm in trouble, and you bastards are throwing me out there! Do you have any idea how many mercenary groups there are out there who were itching to get me even before this? Now you selfish piece of sh—"

"I tried, dammit!" Pepper rumbled, rising to his feet. His face fell into a look saved for angry drill sergeants to give to new recruits. "I'm only one voice in a counsel of a dozen generals. Four voted to keep you here, but the others put the safety of the city first. You took a great risk even coming here. I don't want to alarm you further, but you should be wary where you go. Already we caught a guard right here in this base trying to get other soldiers to join him in...well, getting you when you came in."

I stared, shocked. Call it naivety, but before that, I actually thought my only enemies were those I already had, or at the most, those neutral in their allegiance. It could be anyone, even the guards stationed outside that very room. Even those I considered friends, and those who fought beside me in the war. That much money is hard to resist, I suppose.

"Don't you ever question my friendship again, Fox," Pepper said, sitting again. "I do not run this base on my own. The counsel declared that you must leave within the hour, and I'm bound by that, however much I disagree." He sighed. "It's painful discovering who your true friends are, and how your great deeds fade in people's minds as time goes on. Lie low and be careful. And stop by the cafeteria on your way out."

I noticed a small wink before he lowered his head to the paperwork on his desk. With a nod, I turned and walked out of his office, eyeing the two guards. They stared straight ahead.

Things seemed to stop as I walked to the cafeteria. Conversations halted as people glanced up at me, their eyes lingering. Even the hum of mingled voices seemed to die down when I entered the cafeteria. I took a seat alone at one of the tables, and no more than a minute passed before someone plunked down across from me. I looked up to see a fellow red fox clad in green camo, the black patch of the special forces on his sleeve with the emblem of a dagger below it. He stared at me from narrowed eyes, the familiar scar to the side of the left, and sipped loudly from an apple juice box. The nametape across his pocket read "Birse" though I'd know him just from the way he strummed his fingers on the table.

Old times came flooding back to memory when I saw him. We met in that same mess hall, only under different opinions of each other. It ended with his fist sending me to the floor. Being forced to work together sort of forced us to get to know each other, and eventually we started fighting the enemy instead of each other. Now, I don't know if I had a better friend outside the team and Pepper.

"Aren't you a little old for juice boxes?" I asked with a grin.

"It's healthy," Gage responded, taking another long sip. "Not my fault they come in little boxes. Want one?"

"No thanks. I shop in the adult sections now."

"Suit yourself." He finished off the box and crushed it in his fist. "Times like this remind me why I never got married. You too, probably."

I nodded. "Find a woman who could live under this kind of danger, and I'll take her."

He grinned and slapped me on the arm. "Good to see you again. Bad time though. I'm really sorry to hear about this. Bastard generals are nuts."

"Yeah. I have to be out of here, so this is going to be sort of a quick reunion."

He shook his head and nonchalantly brushed off his uniform. "Not necessary. I'm coming with you."

I blinked. "What?"

"Officially, Pepper saw that I had unused leave time stockpiled up and granted it all to me. Unofficially, I'm coming to bail your ass out."

I shook my head. "I can't ask you to get involved. This is too big, and too many thing are—"I stopped at the expression he had given me a few times before, the way a bored child watches an opera. Telling Gage Birse about danger was like telling a fish about water.

"If you're done, we can go now." He stood. "Let me just stop by the armory. The quartermaster owes me a few favors. I just hope your ship can carry all I want to bring."

Good ol' Gage.


	2. The Ambush

[Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. Great to be back at , and better to know some old faces are still around. To Stryke: Thank you for the comments, but trust that they were points I pondered coming into this. Ultimately, anyone who is on this site has read other fics and knows the StarFox universe very well. Putting in descriptions the reader already knows would prove to be superfluous and detract from the flow of the story; something that could only work in fics, though, not original books. Also, since this is from Fox's view, he wouldn't describe them like that. He sees them all the time, so he would have no business doing that. It's like coming home to a house you've lived in for twenty years and looking around as if it's for the first time. Descriptions I decided to save for the things he's never seen before as, for me at least, it makes more sense for the perspective. Nonetheless, I appreciate the response, and I hope you continue to like the story.]

CHAPTER 2  
The Ambush  
_Cornerian Army HQ, Corneria City  
1728 hours_

It turned out that I didn't need to worry about my Arwing's cargo space after all. I leaned against the wall outside the armory, contemplating the lethal uses of the paintings on the wall and the water fountain nozzle while I waited for Gage to sweet-talk the quartermaster. After a few minutes, the reinforced door shooshed open and he came out jiggling a set of keys, a broad smile on his muzzle like a kid who got two gumballs from the machine.

"Even better than your tin can," he said, brushing past me and motioning for me to follow. "Jack has an apartment downtown that he spends leave time in, said we could use it. Got his car too. If we take it to the loading dock out back, he'll have some things ready."

I was impressed. "How did you get him to do that?"

"I told you, he owes me a few favors. Let's just say I was there when he got that nasty limp. Dragged him back to cover."

"Always nice to have a life debt."

Gage shook his head with a devilish grin as he flashed his security card at the guards screening the front entrance. "He doesn't just owe me for that. He owes me for not leaking it that he accidentally shot his own leg."

I laughed. I'm sure it was a lot of tension being released, but Gage was a relaxing guy to be around when he wasn't blowing something up. Even in combat, he had the kind of seasoned finesse and confidence that made it seem impossible that he would fall to a laser, or allow me to. Though I originally tagged him as a gung-ho war nut, I quickly realized that Gage knew everything about every weapon I had ever even heard of for a reason, and he treated each one with the proper respect. His reason, I could never forget: 'In my line of work, you never know what you'll end up using in the battlefield. But you better know how to use it lethally.' I couldn't argue.

I remembered a night almost half a year before when I popped down to Corneria to do some shopping and we met for a drink. After we both downed a few, he made me a bet that he could name more lethal uses for the items on the table than I could name parts of an Arwing. All the table held were our two half-filled glasses, a few napkins, a toothpick, some coins, and salt and pepper shakers. I scoffed, figuring it an easy bet. I lost.

Let's just say I haven't looked at items like those the same way since then.

As I walked down memory lane, Gage led me to the bunker-like secure parking garage. I wasn't too impressed with the green truck we climbed into. I was surprised the engine even started, and even then I cowered back in the dirty seat waiting for the fuel line to burst or something. My mood brightened when we pulled around to the dock where a hulking bear waited, the bay door to the armory open. Jack, I presumed. The truck jostled a little each time a box was heavily placed in the cab. After eight jostles, I glanced behind me.

"What the hell are you bringing, heavy machine guns?"

"Among other things."

I studied his face for a hint of his subtle humor, but I could tell he wasn't joking. When Jack covered our goodies with a canopy and slapped the back of the truck, Gage shifted the poor, creaky gear and drove off. For some reason, it brought to mind the image of an old man tripping on a flight of stairs. Maybe I was more exhausted than I thought.

Through the graces of whatever divine power is out there, the truck got us to the apartment building in one piece. The location bothered me; right in the midst of Corneria's busiest city, people crowding the sidewalks, the streets filled with constant traffic. I stared up at the looming skyscrapers long enough to decide I missed the Great Fox. At least there weren't a billion windows there where snipers could lurk.

Gage must have gotten the hint. I suppose it wasn't hard, given the circumstances. He smacked my shoulder and dropped a key from the set into my hand. "I'll handle the truck. Go to room 1582 and lock the door behind you. I have the other key. Don't get comfortable though. Once I bring up some of the juicier things back here, we'll talk about what to do."

"What about my—"

"He has clothes you can borrow...might be a bit big though. I'll bring some of my things over later from the base."

I nodded and slid the electronic key into my pocket as he drove behind the building. The apartment skyscraper looked nice enough; over sixty floors with a balcony outside each window. Potted flowers flanked the door, swinging gently in the late-summer breeze. An elderly feline doorman nodded and smiled at everyone who walked through. Everything looked fine. So why was I so hesitant to go in? I'm not a paranoid guy by nature. I lived through a war and the conflicts that came after it, and I don't sleep with a gun under my pillow or any crap like that. But, since that morning, it suddenly became much easier to imagine killer doormen or gun-toting bellboys waiting for me inside.

Checking my pistol again as discreetly as I could, I took a deep breath and walked into the lobby.

It was a prettier atmosphere than the Great Fox, I'll give it that. I walked across the deep carpet, eyeing a crystal chandelier and the two concierges behind an oak desk. Before that, I thought only hotels had that type of help. Whatever Jack did to afford a room in that place, I wanted to know. He didn't get it with a quartermaster's salary, that's for sure. I pushed the elevator call button and, luckily, the elevator was waiting at the ground floor. I could already feel those two staring at me. I pushed the button for 15.

I don't know why, but I timed the ascent to 15. Call it being prepared. Before sliding the key into 1582's reader, I looked around and made a note of where the emergency staircase. A few seconds' sprint down the hall; not too bad. I opened the door and whistled at the apartment. A spacious and fully furnished living room awaited with doors branching out that probably led to the bedroom and kitchen and all that. A full bar stood at the far right wall of the living room, behind three leather sofas that lay before a huge viewscreen console. Calling it a big-screen would be an insult to its true size. The apartment was like a bachelor's dream.

But I could sightsee later. My first order of business was to lock the door and close the blinds covering the glass door to the balcony. As I looked around for more security breaches to fill, my eyes came to rest on a table beside the sofas. Half a dozen framed pictures sat on it. I picked them up and grinned as I spotted a younger Gage in a few of them, a soldier along with Jack in shots of their squads. The infantry units made sense, but I furrowed my brow at a picture of eight soldiers in black jumpsuits kneeling in front of a dropship. They all flexed their right arms in front of them, showing proudly the Dagger insignia. Gage was only a sergeant then, Jack a Dagger lieutenant.

The last two pictures showed an attractive lupine woman, no older than me. The first had her interlocking arms with both Gage and Jack, all of them dressed in casual civilian clothes. The second showed her in a wedding gown, embracing a tuxedo-clad Jack. It didn't take much imagination to think of some reasons as to why she wasn't around.

A sharp beep startled me and made me drop the frame with a clatter to the table. Gage opened the door, trying to balance a box in his arms at the same time. He heavily laid the box down with a huff and looked up to see me realigning the fallen frame. He just nodded and locked the door behind him.

"Her name's Jeannine. Jack's wife." He slid the box over to the side with his foot. "Former wife."

"I didn't know he was in Dagger. What happened?"

"Something similar to this, actually." He sat on the couch and leaned back, eyes staring up at the high ceiling. "He was a lieutenant when I first joined Dagger. Inside the team, we were brothers in arms. In our free time, we were combat buddies. We became friends. That other picture was taken the summer she was killed, at a restaurant we all went to. She was a wonderful woman. But, as always, the job fucked everything up. Dagger's existence was leaked and a Venomian general found out. But the army was weakened by then. So he hired every mercenary team he could find, and there were plenty who just wanted the money with no allegiance to Corneria. They had the names and profiles of every Dagger member, and they hit hard. Four were killed the same night when they went on leave, shot in their sleep. One had a wife and young child. The mercs killed them too."

He waved his finger around. "Jack didn't have this place at the time. He had a house in the suburbs. He was at the base, so the mercs did the next best thing to get to him: they kidnapped Jeannine. Dagger couldn't respond. We were in chaos. By the time we discovered what had happened, a full squad had been killed. Eight soldiers and their families. Those of us remaining were kept under strict lockdown in the base. Intel couldn't locate Jeannine, but after a couple hellish days, she located us. Her body was dumped from a truck on the road in front of the base."

I shuddered. I had heard numerous horror stories from Gage about the combat he's seen, but this one hit home a bit more. I looked again at the smiling faces on the wedding picture and stayed silent. I didn't know what to say; damned if there even was anything to say to that.

Gage understood. He must get that a lot with his stories. He just shrugged and sighed lightly. "He was inconsolable for a bit, but he moved on. We all did. Coping isn't part of training, but it's something we learn on our own. When he heard we might run into a few mercs, he was more than happy to shell out the armory and his place. Actually, this is more of an 'our' place. Any Dagger member is allowed to use it, and we all chip in for rent and such."

That explained that. "Tell him thanks for me next time you see him."

Gage nodded and stood. His expression was in business mode again. "Some ground rules. First, always keep the door locked. Nobody knows about this place except Dagger, so if you hear a knock, blow a hole through the door. Second, don't go anywhere alone. If we need anything, I'll get it. Third, stay off the phone. Don't call anyone, and above all, don't trust anyone. It's not a pretty thought, but you're the most hunted man in the galaxy right now. Mercs will be after you. If there's anything to be learned from Jack's story, it's how far they'll go for money and what they'll do to get it. Got it?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Good. I'm going to run back to the base and bring some of my things now that there's space in the truck." He headed for the door but stopped with his hand on the knob. "Oh, I forgot the most important rule."

I looked up.

"The big bedroom's mine."

I scoffed. "Get out of here, you ass."

He grinned and opened the door, but I spoke up.

"Gage?"

The fellow fox looked over his shoulder.

"Thanks for everything. Seriously."

He nodded curtly and shut the door behind him. A moment later I heard the lock snap into place.

After helping myself to a little something from the bar, I suddenly remembered that I never called Peppy back. The old hare was probably working on a heart attack. Gage said to stay off the phone, but I figured it would be no big deal. I wouldn't tell anyone where I was and I wouldn't stay on long. I walked to the telescreen on the wall and punched the number from the crumpled paper in my pocket I had written it on. After a moment, the hotel's front desk answered, a pretty avian with a perky voice. Immediately I wondered if Falco had hit on her.

"Hi, I have a few friends staying there this week, but I don't know what room. Could you put me through to Mister Hare?"

"Of course, sir. One moment please." After some clacking on her keyboard, she looked back at the screen with a frown. "I'm sorry, sir, he checked out today."

I reflected her frown. Peppy had agreed to stay away from the Great Fox. Where could he have gone? "Could you try Mister Lombardi?"

A flash of a grin on her beak told me my suspicion of Falco seeing more than just the normal sights was probably right. She looked again and shook her head. "He checked out as well, at the same time."

I didn't need to try Slippy. With a sigh, I said, "Alright, thanks anyway," and cut the connection. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with naming me captain if no one ever listens to orders.

_Jack's apartment, Corneria City  
Two days later, 0532 hours_

Two thankfully uneventful days passed before the first real information came into our hands. I awoke to the sound of rapid tapping from the living room and I sat up with a groan, rubbing my neck with a glance at the clock. 5:30 AM. I never did get used sleeping with my pistol under my pillow, but as much as I had ridiculed the paranoia, hell if I would ever be more than two feet from a gun. I dressed in assorted bland garments from the back of Gage's closet, but the lack of imagination didn't bother me any. The less I stuck out, the better. The only thing I found that I would consider remotely fashionable was a black jacket, not too unlike my flight jacket. I shrugged, pulled it on, and rolled up the sleeves.

"'Bout time you woke up," Gage said, not turning his head away from the computer console where he typed. He took a sip from a coffee mug. "I think I may be on to something."

I noticed he was dressed in his usual green fatigues, boots, black t-shirt, the whole nine yards. The fatigue top lay draped over the couch. "Gage, we're in the middle of a frickin' city and you're off duty. What foliage do you plan on blending in with today?"

"They've grown on me. Comfortable as pajamas. Besides, it's better than all that faded old crap I have in my clo—" He did a double-take over his shoulder and shook his head as he looked back at the screen. "At least you found the jacket. Take care of it, or I'll kill you myself."

I grinned and sat at the couch. His comment triggered a little twinge in my mind and it took me a moment to realize what it was. Finally, I asked slowly. "Hey, Gage."

"Yeah?"

I hesitated. "Did you ever...well...you know, did you ever think of...I mean, that's a load of money. It could buy a country. Did you ever think of...?"

He finally got what I was asking and looked over his shoulder at me with narrowed eyes. I hated that look. It meant he was either thinking really hard or was about to knock someone on his ass. Considering it was the look he gave me before our fight in the cafeteria so long ago, I doubted it was the former. I suddenly felt embarrassed at the question. He had every chance in the world to turn me in or just shoot me. "I'm sorry, forget it."

Gage turned back to the computer. "Money's a cool thing, Fox. I wish I had only a fraction of that pile he broadcasted. But for some things, I don't even need a full second to decide what's more important. I don't do what I do because of the money. A cashier gets paid more than me. If I wanted to fight for money, I'd quit the Army and be a bastard merc or someth—"

Now it was his turn to shut his mouth, steal a glance at me, and introduce an awkward silence. I didn't take as much offense to the comment as I would any other day, mainly because now we were even. I blew it off. Now that were done offending each other to start the morning, we could get down to business.

He beckoned me. "Come take a look at this."

I hunched down behind him and looked over his shoulder. The broadcast was playing again, but without audio. Gage was studying it and slowing down the frames in certain parts.

"Ok, look at this. We can never get even a hint of who this guy speaking is. He did well covering it up. He squarely faces the camera, arms folded I think, his ears immersed in the shadow. If he has a tail, he keeps it behind him the whole time out of view. We don't even have a contrast to gauge his height. The pile of cash is behind him also."

"What about the voice?"

"He used a scrambler. It's a recent model so it sounds like a normal voice, but definitely not his. Professional hardware. But take a look at this." He zoomed in on illuminated pile of money and gold until I could barely make out an etching or stamp on each bar of the sweet stuff. "There's some kind of marking on the gold bars. I ran a pattern matcher, but it's not finding any results. It doesn't belong to Corneria, the banks, or even Venom. The classified databases at the HQ might find something I don't have access to here. I'm going to run down there and try. If I find anything I'll call and leave a message. Don't answer the phone."

I nodded and walked towards the kitchen for some coffee, hoping there was something other than stale cereal for breakfast. "Don't forget your fatigue top. That fern in the lobby would make great cover."

"Bite me."

_Jack's appartment  
0653 hours_

I didn't have long to wait. No more than an hour later, I sat at the computer, fooling with the broadcast and mostly making an ass of myself since I had no idea how to work the damn program. Well, it was either that or read some of the two month-old magazines lying around. I didn't feel comfortable with the viewscreen on. I kept thinking someone might be hooked up to it and looking back at me, though Gage said that was impossible with their signal being one of billions. Such a waste of such a beautiful thing.

When the call came, I let it ring, then pressed the button to play back the message. It was Gage all right, but more excited than I would have liked. It meant either something good or something bad, and the way my luck was going I wasn't about to play that hand.

"Fox, the scanners here found something incredible! I was able to get you access for an hour, so hurry up and get down here. Take the subway. There's an entrance on the corner south of the building and some change lying around in my room. Station fifty-seven. Hurry."

I strapped on my pistol belt, gathered the mentioned coins, and frowned at the crates by the sofas. I really wished I could have taken one of the rifles, but if I aimed to keep a low profile, that wasn't exactly the best way to do it. I settled for an extra energy clip for my pistol and left.

The sunrise was just reaching the tops of the skyscrapers, casting the city in an almost comforting warm glow. I remembered it was the weekend, and all the better for me; less people on the streets, not that there were many to begin with at that hour. I walked with my eyes averted to the sidewalk. If anyone recognized me, they kept quiet about it.

The stairs down to the subway were hard to miss with the big "Subway" sign, and I bought a ticket after studying the map for a second. Blessed privacy waited on the boarding platform. I guess the dawn train to the Army HQ sector of the city wasn't too popular. Before long, the unmistakable whoosh of wind off a speeding vehicle sounded down the tunnel. The train arrived, doors opened, and I stepped aboard.

I was less alone in the long subway car, but still only three people. I kept my eyes down and held onto one of the handles as the car rocked and shuddered as it sped under the city. I let my mind wander, but after a moment, I became aware of movement. One of the guys at the far end stood and slowly moseyed towards me. I caved and looked up. He was a gray wolf in a black trenchcoat and black shaded. He folded his arms over his chest as he looked at me, and unless I was dreaming it, the arms rested on body armor. I looked behind me at the other two and my heart sunk as I saw that they were garbed similarly, a burly-looking tiger and an equally combat-ready raccoon. The tiger strummed his fingers on his black cargo pants. Black black black...Gage would've liked these guys' style.

How did they find me?

I filed that question away and reminded myself to ask if I was alive in five minutes. My desperate hopes that maybe they were just really cautious pedestrians dropped away when they all moved in to surround me. I swallowed and slowly reached under my jacket, glad that my hand had been resting there to begin with.

"Fox McCloud," the wolf said, nonchalantly removing his shades and tucking them into his pocket. "We can do this the easy way or the painful way."

I tried to buy time. I kept my gaze at the window, keeping all three in my peripheral vision. "What's the easy way?"

"We have nothing against you, Mister McCloud. But someone very rich does. The easy way is we all get off this train together, you cooperate, and you get to live until this guy gets you. Then it's his show. You will not be harmed by us."

How touching. "And the hard way?"

"Well, the opposite of the latter. We shoot you here and deliver the corpse."

I shook my head, my heart racing like an engine on hyper. "Sorry. Neither of those really works out for me."

I guess they didn't want to hear that answer. They each pulled out a submachine gun from under the trenchcoats and aimed at my sweating forehead.

"Choose, now!"

I didn't have to choose. The next violent jostle did for me. The wolf's gun lurched forward a bit, an invitation I couldn't resist. I grabbed the gun's muzzle and pulled, bringing the wolf's face into my awaiting elbow. I spun, holding onto the gun, and ripped it from his grasp before landing a solid kick to his back that knocked him into my other two playmates before they could get shots off. I raised the gun before they could recover and emptied the entire mag in their direction. The lasers ripped the car apart, smashing windows and lights and, thankfully, my assassins. By time the gun hummed down out of juice, I could barely hear through my bruised eardrums and the three lay in a pile on the ground. The body armor apparently didn't protect the wolf in the back, and the spreading pools of blood under the heads of the raccoon and tiger told me I scored some lucky shots in the rain of lasers. I swallowed and backed up, feeling suddenly nauseous. The sudden stress and reintroduction to corpses played hell on my nerves.

I took a few deep breaths and stepped forward, back in the game. There might be more lurking at the station. I checked the bodies, but no identification could be found. Instead, I ripped an insignia patch off one of their sleeves and pocketed it. As a pleasant voice announced the imminent arrival at station fifty-seven, I picked up both fresh submachine guns. I wasn't a great shot with my left hand, especially when I was also shooting with my right, but I figured given the situation, I could adapt.

Sure enough, three more black trenchcoats waited at the platform. They stared in surprise for a moment, then raised their guns. Too late. I had the drop. I fired both guns, dropping two of them and forcing the third behind cover. I could hear frantic shouts between bursts of gunfire aimed at me. I silently cursed. He had a radio. I waited patiently until I heard the clatter of reloading. The guy obviously wasn't the cream of the fighter crop. I popped out and fired a control burst, taking him in the chest and dropping him. My left gun was empty and my right only had a few shots. Not worth it. I let them fall to the floor and pulled my pistol into play.

The gunfire had caused a commotion up on the street. People were running away from the stairs or hunkering down across the street, frightened yet curious at what the hell was going on. The two guards at the HQ gate in the distance crouched at the ready. As I emerged, I heard a roar behind me and turned to see cars swerving out of the way of one vehicle, tearing it down the road...directly at me. I didn't need any more coaxing. As the car made a beeline, I raised my pistol and fired off the clip. At the last moment, the car turned violently courtesy of a string of shots that pierced the windshield and killed the driver. I dove out of the way.

I stayed down and caught my breath after hearing the deafening crash. It wasn't followed by an explosion, thankfully, as it would have probably killed me as well. My muscles aching and my lungs burning, I slowly stood and looked at the flipped vehicle in the bed of broken class and smashed cement. The attacker in the passenger seat was trying to crawl out of the mangled doorway, blood dripping from his head, gun in his hand. I raised my own pistol and pulled the trigger, but it refused to fire, empty. Gage's lesson came back to mind; lethal uses of anything around me. I stared down at the nearest object. It didn't take much brain power to figure out its lethal use.

As the gunman freed himself and started to stand, I forced my body into one last attack. I took a firm hold of the twisted end of the severed parking meter at my feet and gritted my teeth. With a spin to gain momentum, I swung it with a satisfying smash into the bastard's chest, knocking him against the car and to the ground. He didn't get up. A rain of coins from the broken end joined him.

I dropped the pole and sat on the curb, breathing heavily, waiting for the military to come. The victory offered me no comfort. I knew it was just the beginning in a string from everyone like them in the galaxy. The only questions were when the next attack would come, and whether I would be lucky enough to survive it again.

_--Chapter 3 coming soon--_


	3. Through Blood and Sweat

Author's Note: Thank you once again to those that reviewed, and I'm glad you like it. The story continues!

CHAPTER 3  
Through Blood and Sweat  
_Cornerian Army HQ, Corneria City  
1142 hours_

I winced back and sucked air through my teeth as the white-robed rodent doctor picked a shard of shrapnel from my ear with tweezers. I guess I should've been thankful the metal hadn't gone into my neck, but I wasn't in any mood to look for silver linings. Then, to make my day even brighter, he swabbed on healthy dose of disinfectant that burned like fire. 

"Oh, stop your whining," he huffed, tossing the used cotton into a nearby trash bin. "You're lucky to be alive after all that. It's only a minor laceration on the ear, and small bumps and bruises elsewhere."

"Joy," I grumbled. I hated doctors' offices with a passion. The hate didn't work well with my profession, unfortunately; it seems I spend half the time sitting on a table for some wound or another, especially since I started taking more land jobs. I looked up at Gage, who had been standing in the corner with his arms crossed and his narrow-eyed concern look on the whole time, and said, "Can we get out of this torture chamber now?"

"Yeah. Thanks, doc."

I waited until we were walking through the HQ halls to gingerly touch my ear and grumble, "What the hell happened? How did they know to be there?"

"I don't know," he answered, shaking his head. "It doesn't make sense. They would have needed a signal to trace or a reason to tap that phone. And to respond that quickly, they would have already needed to be scoping the place. God, I feel like shit. If I had known..."

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know. Besides, it's just not a vacation with Gage Birse unless I walk away with some kind of injury."

Gage grinned, but it fell just as quickly. "Well, your day's about to get better or worse depending on how you take what I called you here for in the first place."

"Worse, knowing the kind of news you bring."

Gage led the way through the Logistics wing of the base until we came to a small room buzzing with all sorts of consoles and flashy machines that could have, for all I know, cooked a potato or launched a missile. A large screen took up an entire wall across from the computers. Gage punched some of the buttons and the screen started to flicker.

"I ran a pattern scan of that symbol we saw stamped on the gold bars. You'll never believe this. It's the insignia of the Black Scythe."

I stared back blankly.

Gage sighed and continued. "The Black Scythe was basically Andross's version of Dagger during the war; a totally secret covert special operations group, though they not only went after military targets. These guys were like pirates. They would receive orders to burn an entire town to the ground, kill or capture all the civilians, and loot the place. And they'd do it, without question, and with the expertise of any first-tier specops group. Entire outposts fell to them."

The screen finally finished its churning and began showing military profiles of different soldiers, though all their names, ages, things like that, were X'd out. Seeing the grizzled faces of soldiers who looked forward to their next kill was enough to turn my stomach anyway. "They look like real church boys."

"Don't you see? This mystery man on the tape could be former Black Scythe. Only those soldiers know where they stashed all the stuff they looted. It was never found by Cornerian forces."

I stared at the screen for a few minutes, clicking my teeth in thought. Finally, I said, "Gage, how in hell did you think this wouldn't make my day worse?"

He shrugged. "Well, now we know what we're up against."

"Wonderful." I touched my ear again and wiped it on my pants, but I felt something shift in my pocket. Suddenly, I remembered the patch that I ripped off the one merc's coat. I took it out and looked at it closer. It showed a symbol of two swords crossed over a silver sun.

"What's that?"

"Got it off one of the bastards that attacked me." I tossed it to him. "It's the Arcothan emblem. They're a mercenary group that—"

"Arcothans, a large mercenary group operating near Zoness, named after Francis Arcotha, the founder of the group originally called the Raiders. They changed their name to honor him after his death at the hands of the Cornerian military over thirty years ago. Today, they have close to seventy members and run smuggling rings, slave trade, black market weapons, pirating, and drug rackets all over the galaxy." He flipped the patch back to me. "Real assholes."

I nodded, impressed. "You have a run-in with them?"

"They were part of the group I told you about that Venom paid to attack Dagger."

I frowned. The Arcothans were pretty popular in the mercenary ring, and not for their generous donations to charity. They pretty much controlled every illegal act that Gage rattled off and killed anyone who got in their way. If these guys were ballsy enough to go after Dagger, and succeed in killing a few, then there's no telling how far they'd go to get me. I certainly didn't want to find out.

"So what do we do now?" I asked; a question I had no answer for.

"The good news is that they were greedy enough to try and capture you first. Gage shrugged. "I don't know if they'll take the chance again, but it might hold off an all-out assault. We have to get somewhere safe. I know an old outpost on Fortuna that might work. Where's your Arwing?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your generous commander had it carted to the storage hangar across the city."

"Let's get going then. We can figure this all out once we—"

Gage was interrupted as the door whooshed open and a tall, bulky jaguar walked in like he owned the place. One glance at the name strip on his pocket and I realized he actually did. General Tharan, the commander of the Army HQ in Corneria City, flanked by two stoic guards. I never formally met him, but the name rang a bell. Sometime toward the end of the war, he actually got off his ass and commanded some successful missions. Now, he glared at me as if he caught me stealing his car.

"What the hell have you done, McCloud?!"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"

"You've brought a shit storm down on this base, and I will not compromise the lives of my men because of this. I want you out, now!"

Asshole officers: even out of the military, I couldn't avoid them. I narrowed my eyes. "Wait a minute...you seem familiar. Ah, that's right! Weren't you there when I got that medal for winning your war for you?"

Tharan's jaw set and I wouldn't have been surprised if he took a swing at me. But Gage placed a hand on my shoulder and stepped in. "Hang on. Sir, what shit storm? The fight was half a mile away. The mercs would never think of—"

"This shit storm, Birse." Tharan pounded the security feed into the room's wall-sized screen, which showed me more than I wanted. The outside security cameras showed multiple ships, most the size of the Great Fox, descending on Corneria City. Even at that distance, I could see that not all were the Arcothans. The mercs had joined together for the same goal...me.

"There's a goddamn mercenary fleet surrounding this base," Tharan continued. "I want you out of this base, McCloud, now."

Gage's eyes widened. "Sir, you're going to send him out into that? He doesn't stand a chance. The base can easily defend against that."

"I'm not having my men fight your war."

"What if I said that half a decade ago?!" I shouted. My blood was on fire. All I saw was red and this ass right in the middle. "You wouldn't even be here right now to shrug me off! You piece of sh--"

"Get out, McCloud!"

Distantly, I felt Gage pulling my arm and leading me out while I shouted. In the hall, the room had attracted quite a crowd of astonished soldiers. I looked round and felt even more anger, rage at people whom I thought were allies. I growled and shouted again. "Bastards, all of you! You all remember this when I'm dead! Remember! And you better hope the next man that comes to your aid never finds out what you do to your allies!"

I pulled from Gage's grasp and walked away, the fire in my brain slowly cooling. I heard footsteps behind me, then Tharan's voice.

"Captain Birse, where are you going?"

"With him."

"Stand fast, captain."

"With all due respect, sir, shove it. You can court martial me when I get back."

_Corneria City  
1224 hours_

The swarm of large ships cast huge shadows on the city, blanketing entire skyscrapers and creating a general panic unlike anything I'd seen since the siege on the city during the war. People stared up, horrified. Traffic stopped, causing a symphony of fender-benders that rang out through the alleys. I looked up as well, hopeless, feeling a tight knot in my stomach. But Gage wouldn't let me resign just yet.

"Come on!" He pulled my arm towards the parking bunker. "How the hell did they find us?! None of this makes any sense. What did you do since you landed here?"

I jogged after him, not being able to resist stealing a few glances at the encroaching fleet. "I don't know...nothing. I came here, and we met."

"No one was following you? No one tapped your Arwing?"

"No, nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Nothing!"

"What about the apartment? Did you make any phone calls?"

"No, I—" I stopped. "Wait...well, I called the hotel my team was staying at."

He angrily punched the side of the truck as we approached it. "Dammit, Fox! I told you no phone calls!"

"But it was to a hotel! There's no way—"

"These guys are pro! All they did was filter the entire Corneria communication network for your voice pattern! What did I say?! I said no phone calls!" He pointed up. "All this is because of that goddamn phone call!"

I stared blankly. Now I'd gotten my ass and Gage's in this impossible war because of this tech shit. For some reason, the thought of an apology seemed a bit hollow, and he didn't look like he'd appreciate one anyway. He punched the truck again and headed for the driver's-side door. I caught his shoulder and brushed past him.

"I'm the pilot, I'll drive. You're the grunt, you shoot. How far is it to my Arwing?"

Gage hopped in the passenger seat and said, "Storage? Ten miles, maybe less. Step on it."

Traffic was sparse, thankfully. I pulled out of the base to a long stretch of eight-lane city road that disappeared in the horizon of cars and buildings. I tore like hell down the road, dodging cars and keeping my eyes off the sky. As the buildings blurred past us, I wondered how in hell I'd make it past this apparent blockade. I didn't have long to wonder, as Gage informed me that we'd have enough trouble getting off the ground in the first place.

"We have incoming," he said in a calm voice, peering in the rearview mirror. "Cars behind us, maybe half a dozen. Wheel models, not anti-grav."

I glanced in my mirror at the quickly-gaining specks of black. "I can't out-run them in this thing."

"That's why I left some toys in here. Keep it steady."

I held the wheel straight as he kicked open his door, shimmied along the side of the truck, and slipped under the canopy into the back. After a couple minutes of him rummaging and me glancing nervously as the cars edged nearer, I heard the first spurts of gunfire from the attacking mercs. Muzzle flashes flickered in my mirror and red lasers split the air outside my window. Gage answered with his first discovery; a box of grenades. I heard the metallic clinking as he dropped the explosive darlings out the back, followed by the explosions and bursts of fire and smoke around the cars. His fifth grenade finally tagged one and it blew high into the sky, causing the merc in the car beside it to panic and swerve. With a squeal of tires, he flipped over into a shower of sparks.

"Good one!" I shouted. Gage answered with full-auto fire from an assault rifle that chewed up the road and any cars he managed to hit.

My celebration was short-lived. I squinted ahead and my heart froze as I saw at least a dozen more cars coming right at me, trying to sandwich us. I don't really know what happened next. Pride would like me to say that I didn't panic, that it was just a slip, but that would be lying. I panicked. I wasn't used to driving things that couldn't fire twin lasers from the nose. I jammed on the breaks, causing the truck to swerve and rear-end an abandoned civilian car. I felt a nauseous flip in my stomach as the truck tilted and finally fell with a horrific crash in its side.

With a groggy groan, I pulled myself out of the wreck and felt my forehead. My hand came back wet and red, but it was the least of my concerns. Far in the distance – very far in the distance – I could hear the wail of police sirens, but they were much further away than the roar of car engines that were rapidly descending on us. Gage staggered from the back of the truck and thankfully skipped berating me this time. Trickles of red on his head and arm told me he hadn't escaped unscathed, but he went right to business with the crates. He tossed me an assault rifle and an armload of mags that fell in a pile like jelly beans between us. He hefted up his own rifle.

"Cover north!" he shouted. "I'll get south!"

Fate had decided to throw me a bone finally. My graceful crash had collided with the civilian car to form a V that gave us both cover from both sides of the road. After loading up, I propped the rifle on the car's hood, flipped the safety to rock n' roll, and held the trigger back until my hand turned numb and my eardrums screamed for mercy. The lasers didn't claim any kills, but the onslaught halted the oncoming merc cars. They skidded to form their own barricade, and I soon had a barrage of lasers coming back at me, searing the metal and kicking up rubble from the road.

It was like a dream. A mid-day attack of this size in the middle of Corneria City? I couldn't understand, and this wasn't the time to figure it out.

Gage held his own behind me, firing around the side of the wrecked truck with the steadiness and precision that got him into Dagger. I saw at least two black-clad corpses around the blockade he was facing. After burning through his current mag, he slipped into the back of the truck and came out with a few more surprises; a high-powered machine gun usually mounted on dropships, and two rocket launchers. He dropped the launchers and lay prone with the machine gun on its bipod.

If I thought my eardrums hurt before...

The thick blue lasers tore through the blockade, sending the mercs sprawling and at least two cars exploding into pillars of fire. The victory was shallow, as still more cars poured out of nowhere to join the fight. I reloaded and turned back to my increasing blockade. A couple bold mercs tried to move out of cover, but I dropped them before they could even look up. I ducked as my little attack was answered by a storm of lasers that blew out the car windows and came close enough to singe my fur.

"We can't do this forever!" I shouted. My own voice sounded muffled, as if in a snowfall.

"What the hell else can we do?!" Gage said between bursts from his machine gun. Unfortunately, it was the question I had hoped he had the answer to.

After another minute of exchanging fire, a new sound decided to enter the mix: the high whine that could belong to nothing except a fighter. I looked up. Sure enough, three small merc fighters in a tight formation were diving at us like a vulture to finish off the wounded prey. Gage didn't notice, but if my ear was that close to the gun, I wouldn't hear it either.

I felt ironically vulnerable; three lousy fighters, and me without my Arwing. I dropped my rifle and grabbed up one of the rocket launchers. Fortunately, it was a model I had used before. I flipped up the sights, shouldered it, and took a bead on the lead fighter. I held my breath and squeezed the firing pin.

I couldn't see much with the trail of smoke in my face, but the sound of an explosion on my poor abused ears told me I hit my mark. The other two fighters scrambled as their comrade plummeted to the ground in a fiery twist of metal that nearly took my head off as it soared past and crashed to the ground.

I dropped the empty tube and grabbed the other launcher in case the fighters made another pass, but I soon became aware of static in my ear. I focused on the faint sound in my headset earpiece and realized it was ROB. That metallic monotone was as sweet as an angel's song at that moment. There was no way my comm could reach to the asteroid belt. How did ROB know to come? I played with the frequency tracking until the calls came in clear.

"ROB...ROB, can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. Assistance was requested. What are your orders?"

"How did you know to get here?"

"General Pepper called in the request, sir."

I rattled off another stream of lasers at the mercs with my rifle before answering. Looks like Pepper pulled through. "They have a blockade set up in the air. Can the Great Fox make it through to ground level?"

"Unlikely for continued presence. The shields will last for five to ten minutes."

I fired again to keep the mercs' heads down while my mind worked. After a few seconds, I knew there was only one thing on the Great Fox that could get us out of this mess. "ROB, keep the boosters warmed up and descend to street level. Follow the smoke. Drop the Landmaster, fire up the boosters, and don't look back."

"Yes, sir."

I gave my attention back to the fight, rejuvenated by a second wind at knowing that help was on the way. I shouted over my shoulder, "Hold on, Gage! The cavalry's coming!"

When he didn't answer, I realized that it was too quiet; his machine gun was silent. I looked over my shoulder and my heart leapt to my throat at the sight of my friend lying face-down next to the gun, a spreading pool of blood under his torso. I dropped my gun and knelt at his side. I debated whether to move him, and finally flipped him onto his back. He had a pulse, which at least got my heart back to beating normally. A nasty shot had taken him in the lower shoulder and he was losing blood fast. I tore off the already-shredded sleeve of his shirt and bound it tightly around the wound. It was about as far as my medical knowledge went, and the best I could do in the situation.

"Damn it all," I mumbled, clenching my eyes shut and slapping the wet asphalt. I never felt such guilt, but I knew I had to stow that feeling for now. "Hang on, man. Don't you die on me." Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he wouldn't. I knew Gage. He had fought too many battles and been through too much shit to allow some punk merc to off him.

Some of the mercs on Gage's side knew they had tagged him and were starting to traverse the no-man's-land between us and the blockades. When they saw me man the machine gun, they blinked and tried to turn back, but I had a little favor to return from Gage. The machine gun was quite a weapon, and the effect was great; a few chewed-up mercs and dozens more who would think twice before coming at me.

But their persistence wore me down. When the machine gun fired on empty, I retrieved the rifle and kept at it, alternating between the two sides of the road and thanking God that the truck was armored enough to keep the attackers from hitting the stockpile of weapons. But the barrages intensified. I wiped blood and sweat from my eyes and kept firing with a numb arm, my cheek too fried from the gun's heat to even feel it anymore, my chest heaving with each labored breath of the smoky air.

Just when I felt I was too weak to even load another mag, I finally received a blessing from above: yellow lasers from the Great Fox's main guns, pounding the blockade to the south. If ROB could keep that up, I could just unfold a lounge chair and sip margaritas all day. But the fleet in the air noticed him, as I expected, and started firing at my beloved ship. The Great Fox lowered until I could feel the air from its thrusters and my gift lowered itself from the hangar with its retro boosters. The Landmaster, everything a man could want in a tank. Only problem was that it landed about twenty meters from my position. Not too far for a carefree jaunt, but a kill zone for a battle, especially if I were to heft Gage along.

The Great Fox boosted away into the horizon, and the pursuing ships gave up, preferring to concentrate on me. Trying to be as careful as possible with his wound, I lifted Gage over my shoulder, faced the Landmaster, and took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Lasers darted by the area between me and the tank, and I was reminded of the old saying of "dodging the raindrops." Only here, the raindrops were deadly.

Before I could think again, I sprinted. Lasers kicked up bits of gravel and pinged against the solid hull of the tank. Just as I approached arm's-reach of the Landmaster, I felt a searing pain explode in my thigh and I fell to my knees, groaning through gritted teeth. It hurt like blazes, but my adrenaline wouldn't take that kind of shit. I forced myself up, my entire leg feeling like it was on fire, and popped the canopy. Gage and I would have to get chummy, but the tank could fit us both, and neither of us were complaining about the accommodations. As if my poor heart hadn't had enough, as soon as I was in place and the canopy lowered, a shot that would have made abstract art of my head smacked against the window in front of me. I swallowed and fired up the engines.

As I wrapped my hands around the controls, I couldn't suppress a small, devilish grin. I was in my element again. The mercs seemed to realize it too. The firing minimized and they ran, but some were unlucky enough to get caught in my first charged blast which blew one of the cars sky-high and sent its two neighbors tumbling into a mess of twisted metal. I laid off the rapid-fire energy guns and concentrated with the charged blasts, eventually blowing the blockade to hell. One of the cars tried to get away, but the Landmaster had the last word, sending it end over end in a ball of flame.

The tank jolted violently and my shields took a sudden plunge. My buddies at the other blockade were approaching, some sporting rocket launchers. Time to book. With another shot for good measure, I upped to full throttle and literally tore down the asphalt, grinding over any debris in my way. Gage would have been proud, had be been awake. Another trio of fighters started a strafing run behind me and I set up to take them down as they passed. But, with a frustrated grunt, I released the lock-on trigger. Police and civilians crowded the area I had entered, most ducking and praying, and it would be just my luck to shoot a fighter down and have it land neatly on some civvies.

The worst I did was run over the hood of an abandoned police car that blocked the way. Hey, I'm not perfect, and hell if I was slowing down to save the city a few repair credits. Whether from the mass of police, my newly acquired armaments, or lack of functioning transportation, the chase stopped. But I didn't stop until I nearly knocked the gate to the storage bunker down. When the guards saw me, stained with gun grease, blood, sweat, dust, and carrying a nearly dead soldier, they didn't ask questions. I got to my Arwing without delay. The Landmaster I could pick up later.

Luckily, the mercs hadn't counted on me getting that far, and the ships were in no position to blockade me from breaking orbit. With Gage tucked away in the small passenger seat the size of a large glove box, I tore through the sky until blue turned to freckled black and I was blessedly alone. I locked onto the Great Fox's position – quite a distance away; I knew we got ROB for a reason – and sat back, breathing hard. With the adrenaline wearing off, I was able to concentrate on the excruciating pain from the shot in my leg. What a life.

It was as though the pain fueled my anger even more. Right there, coasting through space, it became clear that I would never be safe or free as long as this bounty existed. As a great man once said, the best defense is a good offense. These bastards should learn to read up on a target's history before going after him. They had stirred up a hornet's nest. Now, I would make them feel the sting.

_--Chapter 4 coming soon--_


	4. Memories and Intruders

--Author's note: Thank you again to those that review. Enjoy Chapter 4 everyone!--

CHAPTER 4  
Memories and Intruders  
_The next morning, Great Fox  
0923 hours_

It wasn't the first time I'd awakened to a searing pain. Some people wake up to the smell of coffee, some to a lover's embrace, some to an alarm clock. Me, I wake up to pain. For pretty much every one of the few dozen scars on my body, I can tell the story of waking up from some near-death experience relating to it. Blood loss, shock; if it's in a medic's handbook, I've had it. I would have preferred a pretty nurse standing over me, but I guess Fox would have to do. Certainly better than some of the hellish sights I've woken up to.

I blinked and looked around, surprised to be waking up at all. After the warzone that fell on Corneria City, I thought it was over. I remembered the sweet smell of ozone from the machine gun and my mathematical worries that the targets were multiplying faster than they were dropping, then a laser that came too close for comfort. I felt the familiar burn, looked down at my own blood, then...

"What happened?" I rasped on a dry throat. "How long have I been out?"

Fox handed me a cup of water from the table by my bed and looked at me with an almost fatherly concern. I knew the look well. Guilt was one of the more identifiable traits in a person's face. I raised my eyebrows expectantly and gulped. Water never tasted so good.

"Only overnight," he answered, sitting on the foot of the bed. "You took a hit in the shoulder. Lost a lot of blood. Pepper apparently called ROB here on the Great Fox and told him to back us up. I had him drop the Landmaster, and I blew us out of there."

I gingerly touched my tightly-bandaged shoulder and grimaced at the sharp sting. Fox wasn't a bad medic. "Pepper's all right. I knew he'd come to his senses eventually. Let's hope Tharan doesn't find out."

"Yeah."

"So you managed to make it out of that shit storm while carting my ass around? I'm impressed." I added, "And thank you."

Fox blinked, surprised, and shook his head. "Don't say that. You wouldn't have even been in danger if I hadn't..."

"Stop it right there," I interrupted. Sometimes, he was more annoying than an Army private during basic. "I don't want to hear that crap anymore. You hauled me under heavy fire out of a combat zone. In the military, you'd get a medal for that."

He nodded and seemed to buck up a little. Frankly, I was impressed he was still sane, much less operating smoothly. It's not every day a guy is attacked by every mercenary in the known universe. It was almost humorous to watch his reactions to my previous statement, just like his reaction back in the base when I told him I was coming with him. In Dagger, and in most of the military in general, some things are just second nature. Friends and comrades are like an extension of our own lives, and we protect them as such. Brothers in arms are sometimes stronger than brothers of bloodline.

"I set a course for Fortuna," Fox said. "You still want to go to your little hideaway there?"

I nodded. "We'll be safe there, I think. Safer anyway. You find out anything else about our friends back on Corneria?"

"A bit. I'll get it all together, but you need to rest for now."

Much worse than an Army private. I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. I've taken worse."

"I don't care. Recuperate. You have a line to ROB there if you need anything. I'm setting up a sentry gun outside the door, so don't even think about leaving."

"I know how to bypass those!" I called after him as he left, though I knew he was kidding. White infirmary walls...like a second home to me by now. I felt annoyed at being incapacitated, but I figured I should soak up the rest while I could. I had a feeling there wouldn't be much in the near future.

* * *

One thing about Fox, at least he didn't skimp on the medical supplies. That says a lot about a commander. He had a full stock of MedTac patches; squares of adhesive gauze with sticky blue muck on it that sped up the healing process exponentially. Saved a lot of lives out in the field. I had the medic try and explain how it worked one time, but I ended up with a headache. All I cared about was that it made the hurt go away. By that night and my second patch, a new scar for my collection had formed and I could swing my arm like a baseball pitcher.

It was my turn to borrow from Fox's closet. I hesitantly pulled on one of the flight jackets and grimaced. My guys would laugh their asses off if they caught me in a flyboy's suit. But I had no time to be choosy, and style wasn't my biggest worry. With Fortuna still more than a day away, we had to make plans before we arrived. Of course, Fox still said I needed to recuperate, but the mercs wouldn't wait for me to be peachy again. It wasn't my first time aboard the Great Fox, so I showed myself to the armory and called him there.

The infirmary and the armory were definitely the two most stocked areas of the ship. I'd hire Fox as my interior decorator any day. The heavy door needed an access code to get through and led to a room the size of a nice studio apartment with racks of guns, crates of ammo, and a huge tabletop electronic map in the middle decorating it. It was a major disappointment to lose the stash I got from Jack, but Fox's armory was an acceptable replacement for the time being.

"All right," I said, getting right down to business. I tossed the patch Fox ripped from the merc's sleeve down onto the map table and leaned on my elbows. "Let's go over what we're dealing with here....Fox?"

He kept glancing over his shoulder at the door and finally looked at me. "Sorry. Just something weird about the door."

"What?"

"The keypad cover; I always snap it closed. When I went to punch the code in, it was up."

"So you slipped up last time. Don't get overly paranoid. You have security, right? ROB would've known if anyone tried to come on board."

He nodded and leaned on the table as well. "Yeah. Ok, go ahead."

"Anyway, here's what we have." I tapped the patch. "The Arcothans went after you in the subway. Hardly surprising. I wasn't even surprised they attempted a daylight attack in the middle of the city like that. But what _is _surprising is that the Arcothans weren't the only guys up there. I saw at least five different tags on the ships. Cutthroat, power-hungry, warmongering merc groups all working together."

Fox pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. "Here. I printed this off MercNet. It's this little network where the shady types go to post job offerings. I don't use it, but I keep tabs on it. It's exclusive, but Slippy managed to hack into it, so they don't know I have access."

I unfolded the paper and frowned as I read the short message and list of names. It was a post by an anonymous user, obviously the same guy from the infamous video, about the hunt for Fox. It offered an advance of ten thousand credits to any group expressing interest. Even worse, below it was a list of mercs that had agreed to a temporary alliance. Just reading the names, I knew they were the same playmates we had on Corneria:

_The Arcothans_

_Ice Storm_

_The Viper's Kiss_

_The Warriors_

_Corneria's Curse_

_The Bloodhounds_

_Star Wolf_

_The Wraiths_

I let out a low whistle. Those were eight of the top mercenary groups in Lylat. A few, like Star Wolf, only had a few members, but most were huge, with members ranging from at least fifty to three hundred. None of them were groups that I'd want to invite home for the holidays either, and all were monitored by the Army. They were murderers, pirates, assassins, terrorists, raiders, slavers, thieves, and any synonym in between. And they were proud of it. I knew all this first hand. It wasn't my first run-in with some names on the list. The Arcothans and Ice Storm both especially had a place in the vengeful part of my heart. Jack would kill to have a crack at them. Guess I'd do it for him.

"It's bad," Fox said, swallowing and strumming his fingers on his arm. "If they're working together, we don't stand a chance. And those are just the ones who are allied, not including the random hunters everywhere. _And _not including this Black Scythe asshole running the whole thing. I was thinking earlier that we could attack instead of waiting around, but..." He trailed off.

He was freaking out. Understandable, too. I sat at one of the stools around the map table and gestured for Fox to sit as well. "Fox, I want to tell you a story. You already know about me; about my time as a private during the war, how I was recognized as specops material after leading that jailbreak when I was captured, all that. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that combat is unpredictable, but the more in your control it is, the better. You get it?"

He stared at me for a second. "No."

It was hard explaining this stuff, so no surprise there. "It's like this: I did all those 'special' deeds because I was never intimidated. Combat rarely has to do with the size of your army. And I was never intimidated because of the story I once heard of the first Dagger. They were a Special Forces group that had formed before the war, and were pretty much useless. The galaxy was at peace, and they spent their time with a crappy budget doing nothing but training. They weren't even called Dagger. It was something like Division Seven, Squad One. Anyway, a few months before the war, they started receiving missions. All the training finally paid off with these little assignments, but there was something bigger in the works. Not many civilians know how close Lylat came to losing that war the day it started.

"The squad discovered Andross's whole plan to take over Lylat, but there was more. Andross was a genius, of course, and he had hidden a single missile silo in a small, impoverished city on Venom. In the missile payload was the largest EMP yield ever seen in a missile. He knew the Cornerian military missile countermeasures, and knew that if he launched it at Corneria, it would be shot down somewhere past Solar. He was counting on this. During his final days working for Corneria, he set up dozens of 'weather relay' stations on every planet in preparation for this. In reality, they would absorb and augment the missile's blast once it was shot down. Every ship and security system in the galaxy, except his protected fleet, would be disabled and vulnerable."

Fox's hung jaw told me he hadn't heard of this before. I didn't think he would have. It was top secret, and a miracle that I even ever found out.

"Dagger found this out," I continued. "The Cornerian Army was in chaos. They hadn't needed to prepare for combat for so long, and everything was in disarray. At the last moment, Dagger stood for the bravest and most inspiring act I've ever heard of. Operation Dagger, which gave them their name, involved this squad of twelve soldiers being inserted by dropship in the middle of this hostile, enemy-fortified city and assaulting the missile silo. There were thousands of soldiers in that city, not to mention pissed off citizens with guns. But they did it. After hours of non-stop hell and losing eight of their men, they did it. The silo blew, they hijacked an enemy ship, and got out of there. And you know what the best part is?"

Fox looked like a kid waiting for the end of a fairy tale. "What?"

"This was not an assigned mission. The soldiers of Dagger did this on their own plans. And because of its secrecy, there were no medals, no parades. The four survivors returned and got some rest before fighting in the war. This story can help us here."

Fox nodded slowly for a moment before speaking. "Intelligence, motivation, fervor...all important aspects of combat."

"Right. They fought for their homeland, their families, their lives, what they saw as a true good. Soldiers like that will always have the advantage over those who fight for some shadowy figure offering them money. You are now fighting for your life, and nothing else. Remember this, Fox: There are two sides to every conflict, and sometimes, we don't choose to start it. Regardless, you have to accept it if you're attacked. While you're busy dwelling on their size and their power, you're wasting time that could be used to strike at them. The first Dagger could have dwelled on the power of Andross's secret weapon, but they acted intelligently and diligently, and they won. We're both fighters, Fox. The mercs started a war. Let's give them one."

A little grin pulled at the sides of his muzzle, and I grinned back. Sometimes, the prospect of kicking the asses of those who fucked up your life is just too appealing to keep a straight face. It was good to see there was still some fight in him. He nodded, looked up, and said, "What did you have in mind?"

I tapped the piece of paper with the list of mercs on it. "First rule of guerilla warfare: use our enemy's weaknesses as our strengths. They're big, so they're slow and we're fast. They're powerful, so they're easily traceable and we're elusive. They're arrogant, so they're lazy and we're alert. Last thing they'd expect is for us to take the fight to them. So take any opportunities to strike, and we use them to find our mysterious Black Scythe guy on the video."

"You make it sound easy."

"Not easy, just better than sitting around. Have your little robot buddy download the video from the CA files."

Fox nodded and went to the comm by the door. "ROB, we need you to get a file off the Army database."

No response.

"ROB, come in. Are you there?"

Still nothing.

After a few more attempts, he swatted the box as if that would magically bump everything back together and shook his head. "There better not be anything fried in him. I don't know how to fix him, and God knows where Slippy is."

"Where is he?"

"Bridge. Come on."

As we walked through the plain metallic corridors to the bridge, I asked, "What does ROB stand for anyway?"

"The name of the company that made him: Ronson-Orosthil Bionics. Model 64. Not the most creative name, but it works. Why?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering. I didn't know if you were the type to give things symbolic names or something."

"I called my Arwing Lightning for awhile, but then it got struck by a bolt a couple years ago, and it made me all superstitious. Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Name things."

"Oh, no. Not really, no."

Subtlety was one of my developing traits. He narrowed his eyes at me and I finally rolled mine back and said, "I named my first gun Black Beauty. You tell anyone, I'll kick your ass from Corneria to Venom and back."

He laughed all the way to the bridge, but stopped abruptly when we encountered Mr. Bionics himself. ROB stood at the huge window, staring blankly out into space. I wasn't a technology expert, but even I knew when a robot was off. Fox approached him, saying his name, and examined his power supply. I looked over his shoulder and saw that it was on. When in doubt, go back to primal instincts. I walked up and bopped the robot upside the head.

I yielded more success than Fox hitting the comm box. The back plate of the headpiece fell off and clattered to the deck. I knew from Fox's expression that it wasn't desirable. Things like that were screwed in with a death hold. He peered inside the robotic brain and plucked a little coin-sized white chip from the mess of wires. Not a moment later, a shower of sparks burst from the opening, sending us reeling back, and ROB's eyes lit up with "life."

Someone had tampered with ROB. I drew my sidearm and immediately faced the door. Fox did the same, but the cheeky bastard glanced down at my gun and grinned slightly. "Is that Black Beauty?"

"Shut up."

ROB swiveled and faced Fox as if nothing had happened. Apparently he didn't care that chunk of his head fell off. He spoke in that robotic monotone that grated on my nerves. "Good day, sir. Can I help you?"

Fox held up the small chip. "ROB, what is this? Who put it in you?"

"MacBethTech model 0457 memory suppressant, price: one-thousand credits. Three percent more effective than model 0456. Known side effects: instability in models earlier than five years, overload, melting, and power shutdown."

I gaped. "Wow. How did he know all that?"

"Slippy installed a scanner since you were last here. It links to every library and technological database in the galaxy. Newest technology."

The call of duty beckoned me away, but I loved tech stuff. Just because I didn't understand it didn't mean I don't like playing around with it. I couldn't resist. I held up my pistol. "Hey ROB, what's this?"

The head swung in my direction. "ArmaCorp model X97 energy sidearm, standard issue Cornerian Army Special Forces. Weight: 1.05 keratons. Muzzle velocity: 467 feet per second."

"That's so cool. He must be handy to have around. What's the recipe for chocolate chip cookies?"

"Mix one cup sugar with four tablespoons of—"

"Alright!" Fox snapped, pulling me away. "That's enough. Toy around with him later. ROB, what's your last known memory?"

I put on my game face as ROB spoke up again. Fun could wait. After a moment, he said, "Unknown dropship approaching the Great Fox. No response. Security system override. Intruder approaching the bridge. Name: Andrea O'Donnell. Species: Gray wolf, female. Age: twenty-five. Intruder infiltrating bridge. Self, head, fourth quadrant port open." He stopped.

I took that as a cue that he was done. "ROB, where is this intruder now?"

"Unknown. Sensors and cameras clear."

Fox grimaced and kept his eyes on the door. "A dropship put a merc on board, and she tried to erase the memory of it with this chip. Assassin?"

"Bombs maybe. Andrea O'Donnell. Wolf too. You don't think...relative of Wolf O'Donnell?"

"Star Wolf's name is on the list. Could be. Whoever it is, we need to find her."

My mind went back, assessing what I'd seen since I'd arrived on the ship. What would I do if I was sent into enemy territory to kill someone? It was an easy question, considering I actually have been in that situation quite a few times. First, disable security. Second, render the target defenseless. "Maybe you were right about the armory door keypad. She tried to get in there. Gave up, either because we arrived or she just couldn't break it. Is there anywhere else on the ship where weapons are kept?"

Fox thought for a second. "The range, a few doors down from the armory."

I nodded and gestured for him to follow. I took point, the barrel of my gun leading us both. This assassin had managed to keep hidden since we came aboard, but she still didn't impress me. She left a trace of her presence with the armory keypad, and she botched the installation of the chip in ROB's head. I kept on my toes, though. It didn't take a master rogue to get a lucky shot off. We reached the range without incident and I peeked inside. No one hopped out at me. So far so good.

Just as I was about to pronounce the room clear, I glanced down the alleys and one of the target silhouettes caught my eye. It wavered, as if a breeze had ruffled it. I squinted at it and noticed a thin shadow behind the paper. Someone hiding behind it would make it look like that. A devilish smile came to my muzzle.

"Well, nothing in here," I said aloud. I gestured to the silhouette and Fox looked as well. He nodded and aimed, but I held up my hand to stop him. "Might as well, get in some practice while we're here."

As I picked out a rifle from the nearby racks, Fox caught on to what I was doing and grinned as well. He kept his pistol trained on our friend. I loaded up and took aim at the silhouette, purposely aiming to the right of the target's head. I fired and the blast cut through the paper. A nearly inaudible yelp followed the shot. Without missing a beat, I aimed to the left of the head and fired.

"Dammit," I said with a chuckle. "I'm all over the place today."

"Here, your sights are screwed up," Fox said, getting into the act. He flicked the gun, as if fixing the sight. "There. Try again. Fifty credits says you can't nail the center of the head."

"You're on." I took aim again. "Ah, much better. Your money's mine. Center...of...the...head..." I drew out each word for the not-so-stealthy assassin.

It worked. Before I could fire, she panicked, broke cover, and fired wildly with her pistol. Fox and I both ducked behind our own cover as the rapid, random shots burst against the walls. She probably wouldn't have hit me if I stood up with a target painted on my chest. I wasn't about to try, though. She clicked on empty and dropped the pistol as she disappeared out the door. We sprinted after her.

I entered the corridor in time to see the next door over slide closed. It was the hand-to-hand combat training room, what Fox called the "dojo." I just called it the beat down room, because Fox and I had sparred a few times in there and that's always what happened to him. I took the lead, and unfortunately underestimated the assassin. She was waiting to the side as we charged in and tripped me. I took a plummet and hopped up in time to see the butt of my rifle, now in her hands, slam into Fox's forehead. He was out like a light. I didn't wait. I kicked upwards, kicking the rifle out of her hands, and let the momentum pull me to my feet. She backed off to one corner of the padded room, I backed to the other.

Stand-off time.

Andrea was a pretty little thing, the kind of girl you'd expect to find going out to night clubs rather than breaking into mercenary ships. She was dressed in a tight black jumpsuit, normal covert ops gear for militaries from Corneria to Venom. After a moment's hesitation, she unclasped and shrugged off her gear vest and tossed it aside. She was prepping for a fight. She tossed her pouch-laden belt aside as well.

I grinned and shook my head. "Trust me, girl. Andrea, right? You don't want to do this. Calm down, tell me what's going on, and you'll live to see tomorrow."

Andrea didn't listen. She unlaced her boots and tossed them over with her other gear, then cracked her knuckles and crouched in a fighting stance. I sighed and lowered into my stance as well. I didn't need the prep. I'd done plenty of hand-to-hand in the field, and with all my gear on. The enemy didn't wait patiently for me to ready myself. Besides, a booted foot hurts much worse than a bare one.

"This isn't about you," she said. Like her appearance, her voice made me think of anything but a combatant. Maybe a weathergirl or something. "Leave me and Fox, and you don't have to get hurt."

Gee, how merciful. How could I resist?

I took a step forward, and she flinched back. That clinched it. I looked hard into her eyes. "You're no assassin. You botched everything sneaking in here, you panicked, and now you can't face me without a scared look in your eye. Who are you? Wolf's sister?"

I guess I stumbled on a touchy issue. Her eyes narrowed and she attacked with a swift kick to my stomach and a jab that caught me off guard. There wasn't much power behind it, but there was speed and enough strength to make me step back. "Quick little thing, aren't you? I have no qualms about hitting women in combat situations, just so you know. Last chance, or else I take you down. Three moves, tops."

She didn't care for my offer and attacked again. I caught her ankle in mid-arc, kicked out her other leg, and slammed my elbow down on her stomach as she fell to the ground. The wolf grabbed her stomach and gasped for air.

"Three moves," I said. "Now, do you want to tell me who you work for, or do you want to kiss the ground ag—"

She had heart, I'll give her that. I didn't expect her to recover so quickly, but she sprang to her feet, kicked me in the side, and followed up with a harsh knee to my groin. That was it. I sank to my knees, the world spinning around me. I should've known to watch for it. Women love it. Men never do it to other men; no one is that cruel. We do something more merciful, like a gutshot.

Many times, a hit in the manhood is enough to take a guy out of commission for a few minutes, but I sucked in a breath and forced myself to react. I was pissed now. The bitch was going down. She tried to punch, but I ducked it and stood with a solid jab to her stomach. She stepped back, but I wasn't done. I landed my hardest right hook to her cheek and she spun, her eyes flickering. I finished off with my favorite move, a roundhouse kick. My boot thocked against the side of her head, sending her down into a barely conscious heap.

By this time, Fox was starting to come around. He writhed and groaned on the floor and finally sat up, rubbing his head as if he awoke with a hangover. He was probably in no better mood than I was with Andrea. I retrieved my pistol and crouched next to the moaning wolf. She saw me armed, and there was enough glimmer left in her eyes to widen them in fear. She shook her head and swallowed.

"Please," she gasped. "Don't...kill me."

"I tell you what," I said, pressing the barrel to her head. "There's one part of my body that wants to splatter that pretty face all over this room."

"I...I didn't want to fight. I didn't...I wanted..."

"Didn't want to fight? What do you call hiding and taking shots at us? Then this?"

"Scared," she said in a near whisper. Tears welled in her eyes. She was serious. "I was...scared. I wanted Fox. I didn't know who you were. I thought you would kill me."

"And ROB? The assassin get-up? All part of your peaceful intentions?"

"They made me. It was the only way to...see Fox."

I thought for a moment. Something wasn't right with her, and I doubted we'd get much information from her before she recovered from our little bout. "You so much as move, I'll kill you. Stay put."

I walked over to where Fox was steadying himself against the wall, still a confused look in his eyes. Being knocked out is a bitch. "You alright?"

He nodded. "Good job."

"Even you could've beat this one." I looked over my shoulder at her. "Here I thought we'd need this big, dangerous plan to capture a merc alive for questioning. Something's not right with her though. She needs to rest before we'll get anything coherent though. Are there holding cells on this ship?"

He nodded again. "Two, deck one."

"I'll take her there. Go get yourself an aspirin and sit down."

Fox gave me an odd look as I walked away, and I realized I was hobbling. My groin would need a little recuperation time of its own. He just shook his head and said, "I don't want to know."

"Good. I don't want to tell."

_--Chapter 5 coming soon--_


	5. High Stakes

--Author's Note: Thank you once again to all who have left these generous reviews. I'm very glad to see that you like the story, and I strive to make it better with each chapter. To Chibialandra, in regard to Hatred Falls: I had great times with that story and one day might continue it, but for now, this story is my sole project on In Hatred Falls' last update, over a year ago, I mentioned a book I was working on. Well, that was very true, and basically all I've been doing in my free time over the past year. With the product now going to the next stage, hopefully, my writing time has freed up and I wanted to come back to the first good times I had in the writing field: Star Fox. Long story short (too late) Hatred Falls is in limbo due to more enthusiastic ideas here, but not yet dead.  
And now, please enjoy Chapter 5, a deeper look into our newcomer and a disturbing change of events.--

CHAPTER 5  
High Stakes  
_Great Fox  
2047 hours_

Gage sure did a number on the assassin. He was perfectly fine with dumping her in a cell and leaving her until she was in a talkative mood, but I decided to play good cop in this one. Though all the evidence pointed to her as my would-be killer, and despite the fact that my head still hurt like hell from her smash with the rifle butt, I managed to muster a little mercy from my rapidly hardening heart. Besides, like Gage said, there was something about her that I couldn't put my finger on. She just didn't seem like a professional killer.

I waited until that evening to see her, when my headache had subsided to a dull throb. The young wolf sat on the cot in the cell, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the blank wall opposite her. The right side of her head had a nasty bump under the ear and traces of red on the grayish-white fur under her nose told me that she had bled as well. After the harsh kick between Gage's legs, I was surprised she had only gotten away with that much of a beating. All opponents were equal on the battlefield, I knew him to say, whether male or female.

She was pretty though, the kind of girl who would seem more at home being a model in a commercial or something. Without the injuries and sullen face, she could even rate as beautiful. The figure was certainly an envy of her supposed profession; graceful, yet the tight suit showed enough of a build that she had worked at fighting despite her skill in it. After a minute, I realized I was on the verge of mentally undressing a woman sent to kill me and shook my head. Maybe my mind hadn't fully recovered yet.

I punched my access code into the door's keypad and stepped in. She glanced up, but returned her gaze to the wall. I set down a stool I brought along across from the cot and sat, putting myself in her line of view. I set down a pile of little items on the cot next to her and, when she didn't respond, gestured to it.

"There's a cold compress there and some aspirin. Bottle of water too. Do you need anything?"

Her eyes focused a bit, though the bottom half of her head was still hidden behind her folded arms on her knees. She didn't answer immediately, and finally asked, "How's your head?"

The question caught me off guard. I expected something along the lines of "go to hell" from my assassin. "Ok, I guess. Little headache, nothing much." After a moment, I added, "You?"

"Hurts," she replied simply. She glanced around and hugged her knees tighter. "Is he going to kill me?"

I assumed she was talking about Gage. I shook my head. "No one needs to die."

I couldn't tell if my words comforted her, but she asked no more. After a few moments, she lowered her legs and lit her feet on the ground. I realized the floor must be freezing without the boots that were still in the dojo.

"I want to talk," she said, her voice a bit more firm but her eyes still timid. "But not here. It's humiliating."

I frowned in thought. I knew from experience the truth of her latter statement, but I wasn't sure about bringing her in the open yet. I had a feeling she wouldn't try anything, not with Gage around and not in her condition. And after what she said in her daze back in the dojo, she seemed that she really did want to talk. Since that was my goal also, I agreed. "Hungry?"

After a moment, she nodded.

"We'll talk in the galley. We can stop and get your boots on the way."

She had no objections there. We walked side by side, me with my hand resting on my pistol belt. Andrea shot over nervous glances every few seconds, as if I would shoot her when she wasn't looking. In truth, my hand was only resting on my belt out of habit. I was more curious of the girl than fearful. It would just be my luck that fate wouldn't throw a normal assassin at me that I could take pleasure in fighting. It had to throw me an enigma.

My ears perked up at the sound of dim thuds as we approached the dojo. I peeked in the door window and saw Gage, or at least the version of Gage that I took to calling the Berserker. He called it "honing his emotions," and I called it a waste of blood and sparring equipment. What it involved was a punching bag, my buddy with bare hands and no shirt, and the quality boast of the punching bag's manufacturer being tested. I've never seen a man hit so hard so consistently. I learned to leave him alone when he does it.

"I think we should come back later," I said to Andrea. God knows how Gage would react to her in his "controlled anger" mode. If that was his controlled anger, I'd hate to see it uncontrolled.

But she brushed past me with a furrowed brow and opened the door. Gage noticed and, with a final quaking punch that hurt just to look at it, turned to us, chest heaving with each breath. Andrea stood still, staring at him, and Gage stared right back. I was sure that any moment they'd start brawling again.

But Gage spoke instead of fighting. In fact, he seemed to visibly lose the angry edge. I guess miracles do happen.

"You come back for round two?"

When Andrea remained silent, I said, "She wants to talk."

"You mean skip all the torture? Where's the fun in that?" He wiped his forehead with one hand and pointed a finger at me with the other. "And you need to let me know before you do things like let prisoners out."

I opened my muzzle to respond that I was a big boy or some other witty remark that Gage's statements just seemed to bring out of me, but Andrea spoke before I could, to my surprise. Even more surprising was what she said.

"Gage?"

If I was surprised, Gage was downright shocked. He froze, looking like a bewildered mime with his arm still hanging in midair, and stared back at Andrea. "Who the hell are you?"

"I knew it was you. I didn't think you'd remember me. So much has happened since then." She bent down and put her boots on while we stared at her, waiting for more. All she added was, "It's a long story. I know you have reason to be suspicious, but...can we sit down?"

Gage stared at her some more with his stony, stoic expression that would make a gargoyle frown in envy. Finally, he snatched his shirt from the ground and gestured for me to lead the way.

* * *

_Great Fox, galley  
2124 hours_

Priorities go like this: weapons, medicine, crackers. Actually, it's a toss-up between meds and crackers. I don't know what I'd do without crackers. I'm no chef and Gage is even less of one. When in doubt, toss a bag of crackers on the table and chow down. I was the authority on cracker toppings, given my experiences with the salty little darlings, but we opted for old-fashioned plain while we talked. Andrea sat at the galley table, munching one after the other, with me opposite her and Gage pacing slowly around the table.

"We can start with the obvious," she began, her gaze fixed on the table. "My name is Andrea O'Donnell. Yes, I'm related to Wolf, you were right about that. He's my brother. But I bet I hate him even more than you do. I hate my whole damn name. Everything wrong with me comes from it."

She glanced up and continued. "When our dad died and Wolf ran off to form StarWolf, he dragged me along. This was just before the war, and I was still in school, but I couldn't argue. I loved him and I saw he needed me. I was just sort of the team's mascot, really. I cooked, cleaned, repaired things, sorted documents, all that. But then he started getting desperate, after you kicked his ass on Fortuna. He trained me to join the team. I didn't want to. I was scared, and I didn't want to kill. Though I could never say it out loud, I secretly hated Andross and wanted Corneria to win. I tried to subtlety get my brother to give up, but he wouldn't. He started getting abusive when I resisted. He'd beat me, lock me in the cells...finally, I had enough. I made plans to leave and run away to Corneria-controlled territory with a close friend from school. But Wolf got wind of it. He...I was...sitting in the cell he kept me in one night after that. He opened the door, threw her severed head in, and locked me in with it for two days."

"Shit..." I muttered involuntarily. Gage continued his pacing.

Andrea continued. "I loved my brother once, but the war had turned him into a monster. Towards the end of the war, I escaped. But I feared I would be killed by Cornerian forces if they found me, because of my relation to Wolf. But it didn't matter. I hated Wolf, I hated Venom, and I hated Andross. I hated what they all did to me. I wanted to join Corneria and fight, and I was sure my training would let me do that. So, I...well, I..."

She trailed off and looked down at her lap. I thought she might be tearing up at something, but when she raised her head again, she had a small grin on her muzzle. "It's stupid, I know. I don't tell many people this, but...I guess now's not the time to hide things. When I was young, more than anything, I wanted to be a...a..." She blushed and looked down at her lap again. "A superhero."

Gage cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"You know, the costume and the cape and flying around saving the day. That kind of crap. I guess some of that was still living inside me. I knew about Dagger. Wolf's sources were top-notch, at least for awhile. They were superheroes to me, and I dreamed of joining them. I would've done anything. I knew the recruitment officer's name, and over the next few months, I posed as an Army secretary and got real close to him. Eventually, I got close enough to add my name to the tryout roster. I was in your tryout group, Gage."

"Jenna!" Gage suddenly burst out. He pointed his arm at Andrea and snapped his fingers. "Jenna...Jenna...what was it. Started with a D."

"Jenna Delohrey. I expected you to make it." She grinned again, but the grin faded. "I was so close. In the last week, they found out my real name through a more in-depth background check than I expected. I had to run. They never told the group who I was, did they?"

"No," Gage replied. "We just assumed you were cut."

She nodded. "I was heartbroken and desperate, and to make things worse, I found out that my brother had a bounty on my head. I gave up. I didn't even care when The Viper's Kiss hunted down my dingy little ship and caught me. But it turned out my brother was still a cheap bastard and they offered me a deal: they wouldn't turn me in if I became one of them. They'd done their homework on me, and I guess I looked desperate. I accepted. They're an all-female mercenary group, so I figured I might find camaraderie and feel more at home. They're great fighters. They taught me a lot."

"I see where this is going," I said. Apparently, Gage did also. He stopped and chimed in.

"Let me see if I can finish the story. You became one of the Vipers and loved it there, but then years later, this mystery video shows up. The Vipers can't resist and decide to hunt Fox down. Your old feelings for Corneria creep back and you can't do it. So you volunteer for a dangerous mission to sneak aboard the Great Fox and kill Fox. But in reality, you came here to...do what?"

She hesitated a moment, then said, "To join you."

Gage laughed, but I was too surprised to. I thought it might be sarcasm for a moment, but her face was serious as a priest in a sermon. I leaned forward. "Then why all the sabotage? ROB? The armory? Hiding?"

"I was scared. I messed with your robot pilot to keep him from triggering security. I was going to wait in the open for you, but I saw on the monitors that you came back with Gage. I thought he wouldn't wait for talk and would kill me. I didn't recognize him at first. So I panicked and tried to get to some weapons." She swallowed. "I was just scared. I never did covert work before. The Vipers sent me only because I was the only one left to volunteer. The best assassins went to strike at you on Corneria."

I sat back and clicked my teeth in thought. An ally from the O'Donnell family? I could see that appearing in a book of the galaxy's greatest ironies. There was a lot that I either had to trust her on or not. I would have to take her word on a ton of things, and hearing this after finding her skulking around my ship wasn't a great first impression. Nonetheless, I couldn't bypass any hope for allies in this war. I glanced up at Gage. He had a thoughtful expression on, not his skeptical squinting gaze. To even get Gage to consider it was quite a feat for Andrea.

"You said you want to join me, right?" I asked rhetorically. "For someone who got scared from just Gage here, there's a lot more out there. Every mercenary group in the galaxy will be after us, and they won't show mercy on my allies. I'd find out the ratio of them to us, but I can't count that high. We have no military support. You understand?

She nodded firmly.

"Why do you want to do this?"

She blinked and stared back, as if the answer was so obvious yet just out of reach. After a few moments, she said, "I haven't done the right thing in so long. I guess this is the closest I'll ever come to being a superhero."

* * *

_The next morning  
Great Fox, bridge  
0933 hours_

Fortuna loomed ahead in the bridge window like a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream in a pool of hot fudge. Whether that particular sundae held sanctuary or another lost hope, we had yet to find out. Gage had assured me that the abandoned base was only remembered by a select few and it was miles away from any settlement. He knew a lot about the unknown parts of Lylat, so I was willing to keep faith. In any case, I wanted to be ready, and I walked to the rec room to find Gage and tell him to prep weapons.

I was worried when I heard loud voices coming from the range. Ever since our talk with Andrea the night before, Gage had been annoyed and hostile towards her. I didn't expect him to trust her, of course; Gage wasn't an easily trusting guy. We had argued into the night when I allowed her one of the guest rooms instead of the cell. Finally, I put my foot down and told him I was willing to take the risk and as long as she was living in my ship, my rules would be word. He huffed away, muttering something about keeping an eye on her.

I didn't like the thought of them alone in a room with lots of firepower. I jumped and broke into a sprint when I heard a string of shots.

As I burst into the room, hand hovering over my pistol, I saw Andrea holding up a handgun and shaking it at a disgruntled Gage's face.

"See?" she said with an I-told-you-so inflection. "The mark four has a faster rate of fire, if you can get your little fingers to fire that quickly."

"Are you nuts?" Gage snapped back, snatching the gun and twirling it by the trigger guard before aiming at the same target. "Your shots are all over the place. You're a rookie; take the time to aim. Take it and fire smoothly."

He fired only slightly slower than Andrea's shots, and the lasers all struck home in the center of the head.

"Besides," he continued, "the mark four's power sucks. If you want to stop anything heavier than an ant, you have to go with the Tyriend 47F. It's the next step up."

"Yeah? What's your gun then?"

"ArmaCorp X97. Dagger standard issue. Little heavy for a girl like you."

"Ass. Give me that thing."

Gage looked a little miffed at having Black Beauty snatched from him, but he made no move to grab it back. Andrea aimed and fired, actually hitting the target, but shaking a bit from the recoil. She fired a few more times, each moving closer to the center, but not quite hitting the little target circle.

"God, give me that before my gun blows itself up out of shame." Gage took his gun back and holstered it. "If everyone shot like you, I might've spent less time in an infirmary."

"Two days with it, and I can shoot better than you," Andrea spat back. "And let's not compare infirmary time. I bet I—"

"Hey," I interrupted. I had to stop them before they started comparing battle scars or challenging each other to drinking contests or something. "Hate to break this up, but we'll be in Fortuna's atmosphere in a few hours. Can you get some weapons ready?"

Gage nodded. "I'll take her with me. Maybe she'll learn something." He looked at his watch and his eyes widened. "Wait! I got a surprise for you first."

He jogged away towards the rec room, pulling me along. Andrea tailed us.

"I saw this on the news earlier. They have this whole debate segment devoted to you."

"What?"

Gage flipped the viewscreen on and plopped down on the couch. I joined him while Andrea lingered by the doorway. Maybe she didn't feel comfortable enough yet to lounge. We watched the last two commercials before Corneria Media Network news came back on with the familiar feline anchor.

"Good morning, this is CMN News. Today we have with us Advisor Harold Marshall and General Holden Pepper to discuss the issues surrounding what has come to be known as the Mercenary War, specifically Fox McCloud. The largest controversy, of course, is whether formal aid should be given to his protection. The views, like the polls, are split down the middle. Advisor Marshall, could you begin please?"

The camera cut to a young avian, probably in his early twenties. "Yes, thank you. The recent videos that sparked this so-called war are a tragedy, of course, but the military policy on mercenaries is very clear. They are their own organizations, and do not qualify for military protection. The recent conflict in Corneria City proves the disaster that can come with funding, for lack of a better word, rogues."

"Rogues?" Pepper cut in. "To call Fox McCloud and StarFox rogues is to dishonor the amazing feats they did in Corneria's time of trouble. They fought tirelessly for this galaxy, and I for one was sickened to have to inform Fox that we would not return the favor."

I couldn't help but grin. It gave me a good feeling to hear Pepper say that.

"For money, General," the avian replied. "He received quite a handsome fee for his services."

Gage nodded and said, "He's got a point there." I rolled my eyes as he grinned.

"And the official soldiers of our armed forces?" Pepper said. "Are they not paid for their service? Would you call them mercenaries?"

Good one, old man! Sock it to this snot-nosed kid. Marshall looked like he would've been in diapers back when the war happened. It took him a second to recover from the retort.

"No, general, but they are kept within the military's rules. Mercenaries live by their own rules."

"McCloud has been nothing but good for this planet. To see him treated like this puts me at shame."

"You would put our people in immense danger for this?"

Pepper was getting heated. "I would expect the people to do that for themselves! Honor, gratitude, and courage are words that you have swept under the carpet. Fox is of our people, Marshall. And he is now alone, under siege, and his team in peril."

I cocked an eyebrow. "What's he talking about?"

Gage shrugged.

The camera cut back to the anchor. "Tempers are high in light of the most recent video to come from the unknown source behind the offer for McCloud's capture or death. The man in the video this time tells of the tragic fate of The Guardians, a small mercenary group that fought with Corneria in the war and avidly sought to join Fox McCloud in his current struggle. Also, the fate of the other members of StarFox remains unknown."

I felt a knot in my stomach. I assumed my team had gone somewhere safe and were following my orders by not contacting me. When the camera showed the familiar shadowy figure, the one I hoped to never see again, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the bad gut feeling that was rarely wrong.

"People of Lylat," the mystery figure said. "The response for my offer is gratifying, but the hunt is taking an oddly long time to find one man. I believe this may be because of outside help. I am here to address that topic."

He held up a gloved hand and a small light illuminated it. A bloody patch sat in his open palm, the emblem of The Guardians. "Captain Kingston and his mercenaries from The Guardians were brave and honorable to take up their stance against my cause. However, their act was foolish and in vain. The twenty-three members of their organizations are now dead or in my custody. Consider this a warning: the same fate awaits anyone known to side with Fox McCloud.

"To Fox McCloud, I can only say that you have been a worthy prey so far. But only pain awaits you and those close to you, should you continue to run. These belong to those I speak of." He extended his other hand, holding three triangular belt buckles that were standard issue of the team. "They are alive, for now. You have one week. My offer still stands to the good people of Lylat."

The screen flashed back to the anchor, but I flipped it off and stared at the black screen, the volatile mixture of fear and rage building up in my blood. Andrea still stood by the door, her hands covering her muzzle in surprise. She slowly walked over, probably debating whether to attempt to comfort me or run for her life. But I wasn't mad at her. I was mad at the mercs, the figure, the smarmy Marshall, and everyone who was perfectly okay with letting my team die. I don't know how long I sat there, breathing through my nose, forcing my brain to extinguish its own fire and think rationally.

Peppy...Slippy...Falco...there was no way in hell I was letting them die because of this.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Gage. He wasn't a huge talker, but when he did speak, it always made a morbid kind of sense.

"They're doing just like they did to Jack. They're cowards. They'll target those close to you. But this time, we don't have the officers telling us to sit still. We can do something about it." He waited a moment, then said, "Listen to me, Fox. You're a good man. Good men usually feel fear first, resolve second. Fear of failing your team, fear of dying, whatever. But every person has his breaking point. Every person has the point where the fear is destroyed by pure, one hundred percent will. The first Dagger had that. I had that. It might take more to push you over the edge, but for now, we have to act so it doesn't come down to that."

Breaking point...I thought I experienced that when Andross killed my parents. But that wasn't it. That was anger. That was vengeance. With Andross, it was all about me and drowning out my own pain. Now was the time Gage spoke of, and I didn't need to hit my breaking point to realize that I had to act. This time, it was about my team.

I looked up at Andrea. She was looking at me with an almost guilty expression, and I knew right then I could trust her. Gage wouldn't have been a fan of my "instinct" but I didn't care. I knew that look. Without her help, my team might not stand a chance, so I was willing to take the risk. She seemed to realize the question my glance asked her and she nodded quickly.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm in. The Vipers might know something. We could start there."

I nodded and stood. "When we land on Fortuna, we set up a headquarters as quickly as possible. Use the base's old defense systems, set up some of our own, get all the equipment online, and stock weapons and food. By tomorrow night, I want to be able to start planning. I want to hit every merc group on that list until we have the information we need to lead us to this shadowy bastard. By the weekend, I want to turn on the news and hear about the trail of destroyed mercenary groups, got it?" They nodded. "We have one week. And not a moment to lose."

_--Chapter 6 coming soon--_


	6. Striking Back

--Author's Note: As always, my thanks for the reviews and my continual hope that you all like the story. On to Chapter 6!--

CHAPTER 6  
Striking Back  
_McMarthen Base, Fortuna  
1303 hours_

The McMarthen Allied Military Base, or just the "Mac" as Gage said the army called it, was something of a leftover legendary relic from the war. It was a good-sized military base built by Corneria into the frozen wastelands of Fortuna, able to accommodate any branch of the armed forces. It ran on a skeleton crew of a dozen or so soldiers until the war broke out, when Corneria ditched it. Funny part is, it remained empty at the front lines the entire war. Both the Allies and Venom eyed the base, but they knew that once they occupied it, the other side would attack and the base's defenses were never tested. So there it sat, its weapons unused, its food reserves unopened, and its corridors frozen into a timeless statue.

Until now.

Our first task upon landing at the series of buildings and bunkers was to get the automated defenses up. Wrapped in every coat and scarf I owned, we braved freezing winds and marched to the Mac's command center. Our spirits died a little when we realized that traversing the huge complex would be tougher than we thought. Not only was the base big enough to require a few dozen soldiers to operate at skeleton level, but the doors were frozen shut. Even if we got the power on, the base would need time to thaw. I wasn't happy. I'm impatient just waiting for TV dinners to thaw.

I borrowed a blow-torch from the Great Fox's hangar to be our point man, but the progress was hardly worth mentioning. That was when Andrea had a bright idea.

"Why don't we use the Arwing's thruster?!" she shouted over the wind.

Huh. Certainly beat freezing my ass off with Gage cursing out a blow-torch. I told them to get far away and retrieved my Arwing from the landing pad. Careful not to bump against the building in the blinding storm, I slowly hovered over until I was level with the bitchy door. I switched power to full thrusters, held on for dear life, and pushed the button. The result, once I recovered from my burst of speed, was a blackened wall and one thawed door.

The inside was more forgiving, thankfully. Icicles hung from the ceiling and the walls were coated with a thick frost, but the doors only needed a little persuasive talking from the torch around the locks before they could be forced open. It was eerie walking through the complex, seeing the office furniture and décor frozen and dead, as if I was living in a post-apocalyptic movie. I was glad to finally reach the command center.

I was doubtful any of the numerous computer banks and consoles still worked, but Gage was confident. He started rubbing away frost and checking functions while Andrea got into the act and found the power supply outlets. At least the soldiers had the courtesy to shut the place down before they left and not leave it to run out of juice and die. Once the supply outlets were turned on and cleared of frost, we all gathered around the Power switch like priests at an altar. Not one for drama, Gage flipped up the button cover and hit it.

At first nothing happened and my heart sank. Then came the jolt like an earthquake and a shower of sparks that made me wish there was still nothing happening. Gage mumbled something about the machines being full of ice and said it would pass. For once, he was right. After a few seconds, the rumbling stopped, sweet beeps filled our ears, sweet lights lit the base, and sweet heat coursed through the room. I looked out the wall-sized window into the base's courtyard, which held the landing pad and my Arwing, and eyed the turrets along the outer walls. The red light that said they were operational blipped in the blizzard and they swiveled methodically. Gage turned with a grin on his face and gave the thumbs up.

McMarthen Base was back online.

* * *

_Tactical Operations, McMarthen Base, Fortuna  
The next day, 1003 hours_

"Several hundred rifles, pistols, machine guns, grenades, and heavy ordnance, too much ammo to count, twenty working heavy tanks in the dock, thirty working Starfire-class fighters in the hangar, fifteen anti-personnel turrets on the perimeter, fifteen anti-air turrets alongside them, radar that sweeps half the planet and miles into orbit, and enough food and water to last us three over a year."

I grinned as Gage wrapped up. I wasn't smiling a lot lately, but the report went a long way to helping it. "Is that all?"

"In the main storerooms, yeah. God knows what else they stowed away in the other buildings."

"It'll do for now. I just wanted to be a hundred percent sure we were ready before starting this meeting." I took a deep breath and looked around the gymnasium-sized "Tactical Operations" room. I left the dozens of computers alone and concentrated on the holographic map in the center; classy for its time. I wasn't sure it would work since I found it when we moved in the day before, but once we got the heaters going on full blast and the frost melted away to reveal the actual base, she started up. I was impressed with how well everything withstood the exposure.

I was glad something went my way for once. We didn't have time to screw around. It was as if fate finally realized its annoying horseplay would hurt someone and started getting serious. I was able to find out the information I needed while Gage took inventory of the weapons and Andrea admirably helped out by sorting supplies and thawing out the base. She even managed to guide ROB through the blizzard to land the Great Fox near the base. No sense having that big mother of a ship hovering around like a big sign pointing to our presence.

"We have six days until this deadline," I said, cutting to the chase. "Thanks to Andrea's information, I was able to locate the two flagships of the Vipers' fleet near Macbeth, and they're flagged on our radar. But from what she says, and from what I was able to dig up, we can't take them down head-on. They keep ace pilots and ground combatants in the same ships, they have over a hundred members, and they're on full alert after Andrea's disappearance. And we need to interrogate them. If they know anything about my team, we'll get it. Fortunately, while you two took care of the grunt work, I came up with a plan."

"Uh oh," Gage muttered. Andrea grinned.

I typed in a few commands and a holographic view of Lylat appeared between us and zoomed in on Macbeth. "I got this idea from a little ambush I was on the receiving end of around Area 6 during the war." I zoomed in more until a small portion of one continent started flashing red. "This is Harverton, a small town with a big secret; it's completely controlled by the Bloodhounds. They basically took over, shut down the economy to put people out of jobs, and put them to work for the mercs. It's a giant slum, and the people are basically their slave labor for drug trafficking, weapons, you name it. They won't be too happy to see you."

"Us?" Gage said. "What about you?"

"We're splitting up on this one." I hesitated. "Look, my team may suffer because of this, and I don't want either of you to also. It's very dangerous. Are you sure you want to keep going with this?"

Gage rolled his eyes. "If you ask that one more time, you'll be in real danger."

Andrea gave me a simple nod that showed the underlying nervousness, but also determination. I still didn't like the whole mess of a situation, but there was less and less to like with each passing day. I'd take what I could get.

"Alright," I continued. "Here's the plan..."

* * *

_Harverton, Macbeth  
2125 hours_

What Fox described as a slum didn't even begin to describe Harverton. It was obvious how the town hit rock bottom into this nightmare. Like countless small towns, it was caught up and ravaged during the battles in the war. Desperate to rebound from the devastation, it accepted any revenue that came its way. The Bloodhounds swooped in with a quick answer; let us set up shop, and you'll get our business. Even I never would have suspected that one merc group could fuck up a place this bad.

If I looked really hard, I could see the glimmer of beauty that must have once been in the parks and streets. Now there was more graffiti on the buildings and walls than paint. Trash piled in the dark streets next to syringes and layers of dried blood. The ragged citizens didn't even try to hide the drugs. I'd never seen a more depressed group in my life. Even a Venom military prison had cheerier faces.

I was worried about carrying my pistol on a shoulder holster, but it didn't attract suspicion; I couldn't spot a single person who didn't have a telltale bulge under their jackets anyway. Distant shots rang out in the night amidst a blaring noise of drunken shouts and some weird techno crap. That was good. We were getting close, and I didn't feel like wandering the grimy streets any longer than necessary.

As the bright neon of the night club came into view through the smoke down the street, I ruffled up my fur a bit more and flipped up the collar on my new black leather jacket. It was nice; the least Fox could pay for after ruining my last one. Unfortunately, I wasn't so sure it would be in great condition in a few hours. Andrea looked the part of a disgruntled civilian also, with a scanty get-up and too much eye shadow. The convincing disguise stopped at her face though. She looked nervous, her eyes darting around and her breathing coming in short puffs.

"The Bloodhounds are everywhere," she whispered. "I don't know about this."

"No turning back," I replied. I was prepared for her to be a bit skittish. "Just stick by me and keep your eyes open. I sure hope your aim's improved since I last saw it."

She broke her nervous look long enough to roll her eyes at me. Truth be told, I was a bit worried about entering the Ace of Hearts Night Club also. When you've been in the profession and seen the things I've seen, assessing a battle just becomes second nature. You can enter a mission knowing immediately whether or not there was going to be shooting or not. In this case, there were just too damn many crazy-as-shit gun-toting bastards crammed into one place. Then throw me into the mix. There would be shooting.

I pushed open the door and wrinkled my nose. The inside wasn't much of an improvement. Between us and the bar stretched along the back was a floor crammed with drugged-up kids, downtrodden citizens, and mercs. The music shook the walls and a strobe effect that I could have lived without gave me a headache. I grabbed Andrea's hand to make sure we didn't get separated and started for the bar. By time we reached it, I had scoped every cranny of the smoky club; a merc in each of the four corners, a couple at the bar, and three or four on the dance floor. Better odds than I expected.

Our target was off to the side, a large black canine sitting at a table with two hulking bodyguards flanking him. The captain's ranks were easily seen on his sleeves as he hunched over a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. He looked like the kind of guy the Bloodhounds would put in command of operations in Harverton; a couple scars attested to combat he'd seen and the mean demeanor said that he didn't take shit. I took care not to let my gaze linger. I couldn't make out the name on his jacket tag, but I didn't need it. It wouldn't matter in a few minutes anyway.

I sat at one of the stools and leaned on the bar, feeling sorry for the parts of my jacket that had to touch the slab of wood. Past memories of eating MREs in the mud of a war-torn city suddenly seemed as luxurious as a five-star hotel. Andrea sat next to me, her face contorted as she tried to hide the same disgust. I caught her eye and she nodded. We had a job to do. Time to get it on.

She played the part, winking suggestively at passing guys and sitting in a pose that sure as hell would have made me stop and ogle. Even in the life or death situation, I had to consciously keep focus. I ordered a few beers and downed them, passing the time, becoming part of the background. Finally, when I had a good mindset of where the targets were, I took a chug and banged the mug down hard on the bar, my signal to Andrea that it was time to begin.

With visible hesitation, she stood and guided herself through the crowd towards the captain. Acting like a whore must have been difficult, even if the added role of seducing a murderous merc wasn't involved. I looked after her as she left, feeling a pang in my gut. I realized it was worry. Dear God...was I actually developing feelings for Andrea? I couldn't forget the brief camaraderie we shared during Dagger tryouts, and now that we were at war together, my initial impression of her came back to me. There was no doubt. I was attracted to her back then. Not just her looks, but her attitude, a personality I rarely found in women. Maybe a little remnant was carrying over.

I watched as she leaned over his table and whispered something to him. He grinned and smoothly felt her up. That got me focused again. I narrowed my eyes at him and wished I could skip the masquerade and just cap him then and there. But Andrea succeeded. He stood, wrapped his arm around her, and they walked together towards a back door. The two hulking guards remained behind and I realized they were looking at me. My staring must have attracted attention.

I turned back to the bar, but cursed inwardly when I felt their presence sneak up to my sides. Big boy one hovered over my left and his partner leaned on the bar to my right. I didn't react until they spoke.

"New face 'round here," lefty said. I doubted he intended to throw a welcoming party. "She your girl?"

I sipped my beer, taking my time to respond. I kept my eyes straight where I could see both of them in my peripheral vision. "Works for me, yeah. My most popular girl. You two want a go with her also?"

Righty chimed in, not sounding any more pleasant than his buddy. "Maybe you ain't heard. This is Bloodhound territory. We run the business here, and we run the girls. The captain ain't gonna give her back, and he ain't gonna be happy with competition. You're in shit, buddy, and you ain't getting' out."

I knew there would be shooting.

"No need for that. Come on, let me buy you a drink." I reached under my jacket, as if going for my wallet.

They started reaching under their coats also, maybe for guns, maybe for brass knuckles, maybe for candy bars, I didn't know. But I didn't wait to find out. I felt the cool metal of my gun and didn't bother to pull it out. I fired from the holster, the laser ripping through my new jacket and knocking a bewildered Lefty onto his ass. I pulled the gun free, slammed my elbow into Righty's muzzle, and fired two into his chest.

Screams joined the chaotic noise and the dance floor came alive in hysterical running. One merc gave me a clear target and I dropped him with a single shot to the head. His buddies didn't take kindly to that and they carried some heavy firepower. I didn't chance it. I vaulted behind the bar and ducked as the deafening rattle of rifle fire assaulted my ears. Bottles shattered, liquid rained down around me, and sawdust filled the air. One ballsy merc hopped onto the bar to get an angle down at me, but I fired from where I lay, dropping him back.

Another weapon sound joined the fray; the crappy pistol that Andrea loved so much. Right then, I was perfectly happy to hear it. I popped up to join her and fired at the confused mercs that couldn't seem to decide between the two targets. Between our attacks, they never got the chance to decide. Soon, we were alone with corpses, smoke, and broken furniture.

Andrea was shaken, but she held her gun with confidence and kept it trained on the dead mercs. I spied the keycard on a thin chain around her wrist, stained with blood. She had no trouble taking care of the captain at least. I let my spent clip fall to the ground and slapped in a fresh one. She followed my lead and we headed for the door.

"I think you actually hit one," I said.

"Saved your ass," she replied after swallowing.

"I was just assessing my options."

"Uh huh."

I took point and peeked out the door. The commotion had drawn some attention, but not as much as I feared. The city was chaotic to begin with; shootings were probably a nightly occurrence. Still, we needed to split, and fast. The night wasn't over yet.

I held the door open for her. "Shall we?"

* * *

_Industrial district, Harverton, Macbeth  
2240 hours_

The night grew heavier as we made our way on foot to the cold, dark warehouse district. Soon the sights and noises of the town were left behind us and we were alone, creeping like thieves amongst the dark alleys between the storage buildings. Everything was as I had hoped. The town was so small and unknown that security was a joke, and news of the shootout hadn't reached the district yet. When my target came into view, it looked like easy pickings. Warehouse 17 was lit with only a few guards moseying around or sitting, probably half drunk. For a single moment in time, I felt sympathy. Nothing sucks worse than guard duty.

But sympathy left me as I led the way further towards the rusted metal building. I'd been itching for a shot at the Bloodhounds for years, ever since they took part in the assault that killed half of Dagger and Jack's wife. In truth, I probably could have talked my way out of the bar shootout. But I didn't want to. I wanted to splatter their guts on the floor. It was a satisfying appetizer, and I eagerly moved on to the main course.

But I had Andrea to think about. As much as I begrudged it, revenge would have to take a back seat to logical attack.

We reached the front of the building without incident and crept along the half-open bay door. I stopped short as shadows appeared in the light. A couple mercs were coming out. That wasn't good; with the surprise blown, they'd hole themselves up in there. Andrea must have been on the same wavelength because she acted even before I could. She flattened her back against the huge door and pulled me into a kiss.

It was ridiculous, really. I nearly laughed. It was as if she took a cliché straight from some action movie and thought that it could actually work in a real combat situation. Since I didn't have any better idea at the moment, I played along and got into the kiss. Then...I don't know. I lost myself. I probably should have kept my eye on the two heavily armed mercs coming outside, but I realized that the kiss had ceased being an act. She seemed to realize this in herself as well and pulled back, surprised. Not a moment too soon.

"Hey! What the fuck is this? Get out of here, this is a restricted zone!"

My head was back in the game. I could focus on my social problems later. The two mercs had moved to arm's length, probably to overshadow and intimidate us. It didn't work. I nodded sheepishly and made like I was about to leave, but then kicked back with a blow that doubled over the lead merc. His buddy never had a chance as I spun, gun in-hand, and slapped him silly with the butt of the pistol. He was down for the count, and I gave the same courtesy to the first merc as he was kept busy trying to breathe.

I picked up the rifles and tossed one to Andrea. Warehouse resistance was hardly worth mentioning. We rounded the open door, crouched in normal specops CQB procedure; sights tight, taking each target at a time. A burst in the chest, move on to the next. Of the five mercs, not a single shot was fired back. I planned on taking them all myself, but Andrea actually got the last one. Quick learner.

With a little smirk, she walked over to the center of the large warehouse where a tarp covered a huge object that nearly touched the ceiling. She pulled it off with a flourish, revealing our beautiful target: four monster cruise missiles upright on a launcher with cables leading to a console against the far wall. It's scary the sort of things that can be found on the black market, especially in the wrong hands. Better it fall into our hands. When Fox found these babies for sale on MercNet, it was too tempting.

While I was busy drooling over the hardware, Andrea went to work on the console, typing away. I'd discovered awhile before that the further away I was from anything technical, the better for everyone. Analysis computers were about as far as my training went. Fortunately, Andrea was as good as her promise of knowledge before the mission. After a few minutes, an alarm sounded and steam hissed from under the missiles.

"They're armed," she said, hurrying back to me. "Coordinates are set. We have three minutes 'till launch, so let's go."

We stuck around for the fireworks. The missiles punched through the warehouse roof in a blaze of fire and smoke and streaked into the night sky, straight towards Fox. We watched until they disappeared into the stars, hoping that Fox completed the rest of the plan. I had faith. What I told him earlier was true. He'd find the strength, one way or another.

"Let's get back to the ship," I finally said. "And pray we have a Great Fox to return to."

* * *

_Macbeth orbit  
2317 hours_

The two ships were huge, each one sleek, modern, and at least twice the length of the Great Fox. They hovered with Macbeth in the background like two angry eyes glaring at me over a blue nose. The emblem of the Vipers was clearly visible on the hulls, as I expected, and fortunately no fighters were guarding the ships. Not yet anyway. I would've liked to have a fleet on my side, but instead I flew towards the Vipers all by my lonesome with the Great Fox tagging along. If Gage hadn't completed his mission, I'd be toast.

When I flew close enough, my monitor crackled to life and the face of a middle-aged black female feline appeared. She looked at me through a pair of reflective shades and a grin beneath them. It wasn't the kind of smile I was inclined to smile back at.

"Fox McCloud!" she said as if meeting me at a family reunion. "Here we are trying to find you, and you come right to us. Finally decide to surrender?"

"Your assassin is dead," I replied. "I figured she was a declaration of war. You want a war, you got one."

"Miss O'Donnell?" The merc shrugged. "I knew she would probably fail. Small loss. She didn't turn out to be quite the soldier I thought she might be."

"No, she wasn't."

"I am Commander LaMonte, leader of the Kiss of the Viper. I've been looking for you, McCloud. No doubt you're aware of how much you're worth. You have one minute to surrender before we open fire."

I eased the throttle down and watched the ships. The hangar doors were opening, threatening to sneeze forth a barrage of fighters at any moment. I looked at my starboard monitor and touched the blinking green "lock-on" tab. A download progress bar appeared and filled up rapidly, ending in a satisfying beep. I touched the newly-lit tab that said "activate" and prayed that the code Andrea used to hack into the Vipers' mainframe still worked. My prayers were answered. After only a few seconds, the window flashed "Upload Successful."

I looked at LaMonte. "I'll make you a little deal, Commander. I want information from you, and I want it now. If I get this information, then everyone wins. If I don't, then you lose. Four Column Eight-class missiles are on their way right now with your ships in their sights. If I get my info, then I'll dispatch them for you. If not, then I sit back and enjoy the bright lights."

LaMonte blinked in surprise but quickly composed herself. "Please, McCloud, that's an insult. These ships have enough firepower to take down a few dozen missiles, let alone four little—"

Her voice was lost as the monitor fizzled and went black for a moment before reactivating with a dim red light illuminating the bewildered feline's face. In the background, I could hear an announcement about backup power activating and a slew of panicked female voices. The hangar doors remained closed.

"Virus in the system, eh?" I shook my head in a sympathetic way. "I hate that, like these damn e-mail virus programs. Guess all those fancy defense systems won't work now either."

She turned away from the monitor and looked at me again a minute later, glaring like a demon, teeth gritting. Apparently the radar station confirmed the missiles. "What do you want?!"

I didn't know how long ago Gage fired the missiles. I cut the crap and got to it. "My team. I want to know where they are."

"I don't know."

"Bullshit! You're all in this together! Where are they?!"

"I don't know, you little bastard! The Warriors made the capture. They're the ones holding them!"

"How did they do it?"

LaMonte looked surprised again and scoffed. "You don't know? The Warriors were tipped off."

"By who?"

She only chuckled and shook her head.

"By who, dammit?!"

"Someone close to you. That's all I'm saying. I hate to ruin the surprise." She turned her head at a panicked merc and looked back at me, serious again. "I told you what I know, now shoot down the missiles."

I barely heard her. I stared in shock at the screen, worries running through my mind. Someone close had betrayed me? Who? Pepper? Gage? No...no, it could never be. I suddenly felt unsafe, the same consuming worry I felt when I saw the first video. It was a stern reminder that I truly couldn't trust anyone.

"McCloud!"

I focused.

"Shoot them down!"

I looked towards Macbeth and noticed four red plumes of exhaust streaking towards the ships. They had a few minutes until impact. "I'm not done yet. Who's the man behind this? Who's the guy in the videos?"

She was panicked now. "I don't know. Nobody knows! He never reveals himself. It's the truth."

I believed her. If the shadow went to all this trouble, he wouldn't blow it over a few stupid mercs. "Where are The Warriors holed up?"

"Somewhere on Katina. That's all I know. Shoot them down!"

My questioning was done, but I didn't move. I stared at the missiles and narrowed my eyes. Maybe it was the recent treacherous news. Maybe it was the pressure of the whole damn situation. Or maybe it was just logic. This wouldn't deter them. They'd keep hunting me until I was dead. I glared at LaMonte, bitterness and rage taking over and controlling my voice.

"How does it feel to be the one under the gun? How does it feel to be the one threatened, the one with no way out? Now you know, Commander, and soon every merc will know. You think I'm weak because of the side I choose to fight for? Let this be a message to every merc that I'm no paladin. If you start shit with me and my friends, I'll fuck you right back."

"McCloud—"

I shut down the screen and raised my eyes to the ships. They never stood a chance. The missiles impacted, two to each ship, and tore them apart like tissue paper. The explosions rocked my Arwing and the bright blast hurt my eyes, but I never deviated from my watch. When all that remained was debris and empty space, I turned and headed back to the Great Fox, my heart pounding and my blood full of vigor from my first successful strike back; my first offensive victory in this war. And there will be more.

_--Chapter 7 coming soon--_


	7. Brothers in Arms, Brothers in Life

--Author's Note: As always, many thanks to my readers and to those that review. To Nail Strafer: I'm honored you took the time for that long and detailed a review, and even moreso that it's that positive. _Edit:_ Also, thanks for giving me the heads up on the rating system, but I could not find any official notice of rules of censorship. If you know where the official word from is, please let me know, but until then I'll keep it at Pg-13 because I believe it to be the proper rating so far. Thanks again. And without further delay, Chapter 7!--

CHAPTER 7  
Brothers in Arms, Brothers in Life  
_McMarthen Base, Fortuna  
1234 hours_

No matter how high we turned up the heat, there always seemed to be a chill floating around the Mac, as if the freezing wasteland was ingrained in the base's walls. But after Harverton, I welcomed the bone-chilling weather with open arms. The town had more of an effect on me than I realized. I didn't fight a goddamn war just to have mercs swoop in and take over the people we freed, turning their shattered town into a shattered black market. I wouldn't forget. There might not have been anything to do about it at the moment, but I wouldn't forget.

Besides, we had more immediate problems. Fox holed himself up in the control room, coming out only to grab something from the mess hall then returning with barely a word or even focused eyes. I was beginning to wonder if the Viper incident had an effect on him. When he laid the whole plan out, Fox wasn't sure whether to let the missiles strike the Vipers or not. Finally, we left it up to him. I told him that he would know what to do when the time came. Personally, I'm glad he made the choice he did. This was war, and war is unforgiving. The Vipers would have simply struck again and again. Still...watching over a hundred mercs die right before you without a chance had to be a bit of a shocker. Women, no less.

With him off in his own world, I began to think about Andrea. It was her old team that we blew away after all. If she had any feelings about it, she hid them well. We played back the video feed from Fox's Arwing and watching Commander LaMonte dismiss Andrea's life didn't help foster sorrow. Andrea wasn't a merc at heart. I don't know what she was, but it wasn't a merc.

We somehow managed to dance around the subject of the kiss for a full day, which was fine with me. Maybe if I picked up the chick magazines once in awhile instead of going for Guns and Blades whenever I was in a store, I would have known what to say. In any case, we spent a long time talking; just chatting about old times at Dagger tryouts, what we've done since then, all that. I liked talking to her, and since I usually say a grand total of five words per day to people outside my team, that's saying something.

"I don't like it," she said the day after the Viper op as we sat with coffee mugs in the empty, echoing mess hall. "He's barely said a word and we don't have time to guess at what's going on."

I sighed. I hated dealing with mental strain, even if it was Fox. Here I thought the guy would have seen enough in his time to be over shock and depression. The only thing to top that was marriage. "Think I should talk to him?"

"Yeah. Just be gentle."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You're asking this of the guy who thinks our armory here still isn't overkill?"

Andrea rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should—"

"No, I'll do it. I've done it before to soldiers. Why don't you go spend some time in the range? I'll stop by to give you some lessons later."

She gave me the finger as I walked out.

I had to commend the architects for the structural planning. The mess hall was nearly all the way across the base from the command center, where the officers would have worked. Let the brass work for their meals, dammit. The rest of us have to. Bad side, that meant a long walk for me. At least the cold base made a man want to keep moving. I reached the command center and tried the door. Locked, of course. I knocked.

"Fox? You in there? It's me."

No answer.

"Come on, open up. I just want to see how you're doing. I'll stand here all day and tap on the door. I'll make it extra annoying too."

I grinned and sighed after a moment when there was still no answer. I was about to knock again when I heard the clean slide of the lock being removed. When the door didn't open, I helped myself.

Fox stood by the huge window overlooking the landing pad, gazing out into the snow, his arms folded over his chest. The blinking lights and orange glow from the rows of consoles bathed him and the room and a sickly light. I had no idea how he could stand it for so long. He didn't look like he noticed much of anything though. He glanced back at me with distant eyes, then turned back to the window.

"Hey, Fox," I said gently. Yes...gently. "How you feeling?"

I didn't expect an answer, but he gave one in a nearly whispered voice. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

I slowly walked up behind him. "Listen, man. You made a decision out there, and it was the right one. It might not have been easy to watch, but it had to be done. We're behind you on it. You did a favor for the galaxy, not just yourself."

I thought my little speech was good enough to be in a movie, but he looked back at me as if I missed something. He didn't turn back, though. He kept staring at me with this piercing gaze and a face stern enough to make a clown cry. It was only then that I noticed the pistol in his hand.

"You think this is about that?" he asked rhetorically. His voice was slowly rising to a dead-serious tone, the kind of voice that was so full of pain you almost wish the guy would shout. "No, Gage. This is about you. It's about this. I found it on MercNet."

He picked up a long sheet of paper and slapped it down on the console before me. Confused as hell, I picked up the paper and read. A pit in my stomach intensified as I continued to read. It was a list of information, every kind of tidbit an assassin would want to know, everything from the locations of fire extinguishers on the Great Fox to the inventory of its armory. Hell, even the brand of toothpaste Fox used was on there.

"I found the third to last one particularly interesting," Fox said.

I scanned down and found a line that I would place under disturbing rather than interesting. It listed the specs of his Arwing as well as one last piece of information: "Known alias: Lightning."

Fuck being gentle now. If he was hinting towards what I thought he was hinting at, things would be anything but gentle. "Oh, come on, Fox. Anybody could have—"

I looked up in time to see him grab my shirt and slam me against the nearest console, his teeth bared and his eyes burning like the fires of hell. "Where are they, you back-stabbing shit?! Where the fuck is my team?!"

I was floored; shocked, appalled, stupefied, and every synonym in between. Lastly, as my eyes narrowed to fit his and I started glaring back, I felt hurt and betrayed in my own right. Commander LaMonte told him someone close had betrayed him, but it never even crossed my mind that he would suspect me. After leaving Corneria and following him straight into a war, pledging my life to aiding him, this is how he thanks me? Is that what he truly thinks of me? I shoved him back, breaking his hold.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I spat back. "Fox, you look at me right now and tell me if you think that. And you better think real fucking carefully."

He grabbed the paper again and held it up. "You're the only person outside my team who knows that, and they sure as hell aren't talking! Even Pepper doesn't know half the shit on this list! The Vipers thought Andrea's dead, so LaMonte had to mean someone else. Who the hell's left, Gage?!"

I shook my head. "You're unbelievable, Fox. I follow you into a fucking shit storm, and you finger me first!"

He shook his head, pain apparent in his face. His eyes shone with the beginnings of tears, but I didn't care. After hearing this, I didn't give a shit.

"No lies this time," he said. "I'm not believing any more lies. What were you gonna do, wait so you could get me alive and snag that bonus? Huh?"

"Fox..."

He picked up his pistol from where it fell. "If you're not out of this base in five minutes, I add your ID to the turret security system. And if I ever see you again, it'll be through the sights of a gun."

The words struck me like sniper rounds, and they hurt just the same. I didn't know what to say, so I let the first emotion I felt take control: anger. "You ungrateful son of a—"

"Get out—"

"—bitch. You—"

"Get out, dammit—"

"—were like a fucking brother to me! We—"

"You were like a brother to me too!" A tear slipped down the fur on his cheek. "And today, I lost a brother! Now get the fuck out!"

There was nothing left to say. My mind raced, but I could think of nothing to disprove the information on the sheet. Even if Andrea had been spying, there was too much there that she didn't know. I really was the only culprit, which made this that much more disturbing. The only thing I could think of was another spy that we hadn't found, or one that got away without leaving a trace, but that was too thin to go with. I gritted my teeth. Of all the countless shootouts I'd been in, this was one of the tensest confrontations ever.

I had to leave.

With a hard swallow, I turned to see Andrea standing in the doorway, her eyes wide. I didn't know how long she had been there, but it didn't take a genius to see what was going on. I said over my shoulder, "And Andrea?"

He didn't answer for a moment, just kept staring out the window. Finally, he muttered, "I want to be alone."

She looked confused and hurt at the same time and looked at me with questioning eyes. I just shook my head and motioned for her to follow me. The door slid closed behind us and moments later, the lock clicked into place.

* * *

_CNS Solar Wind, Solar orbit_

I should've left him. I should've just gone back to my good ole apartment in Corneria City, got back to work, back to my team, and just check the news every day to see how long Fox could hold out. But I didn't. I couldn't. I was still pissed to hell at the way he treated me and Andrea, but I was in no position to judge. I stayed close to Fortuna, just in case. I couldn't abandon him like God and the galaxy had done.

There was always a carrier fleet on patrol between Fortuna and Solar, I knew, so I took Andrea in one of the Starfire fighters and caught up with them. The fleet admiral, an old war vet named Admiral Satcher, was happy to take us aboard one of the cruisers, the _CNS Solar Wind_. It was as simple as flashing my ID number. Formally, it told them that I was in Dagger. Informally, it told them, "Yes, I'm black ops and probably floating out here for top secret reasons that I can't tell you, so just let me aboard and take me where I need to go."

Admiral Satcher gave us a two-man room in the crew quarters and full clearance to anything on the ship for as long as we needed. That was fine with me, and it felt good to be in a fully-defended flying fortress again with someone besides me manning the radar. Andrea felt a bit tense being in what was considered enemy territory up until few days before, but I just told the admiral that she was a "friend" and that was that. She eventually settled down, but stayed in the room most of the time.

Me, I got my ass to work. I hated leaving behind all that photographic manipulation and investigation equipment back on Corneria and equal replacements could be found on the _Solar Wind. _The ship's data banks had backups of the videos, so I picked up where I left off. Unfortunately, where I left off was pretty much as far as I was going to get. Our mystery asshole was pro, and the video was airtight.

It was after two days of mind-numbing process work that I finally got some company other than Andrea or my own addled mind. The voice snuck up behind me that evening as I was losing half of last month's pay on bets in the range with Andrea. I really have to learn to stop giving pointers, then betting. Other way around, Gage, you moron.

"Well, well, could it be that Gage Birse finally found a girl? And one that can shoot better than him, no less."

I'd recognize that voice anywhere, mostly because it sounded like it belonged on a snooty scientist instead of large jaguar who could bench nearly twice his weight. I spun around, my eye focusing on the scar beneath his left eye first, just as it always had. I was fighting alongside him when he got that scar. I laughed, he laughed back, and I slapped my hand into his, shaking hard.

"You're still deemed safe to be let into society? What's the galaxy coming to?"

Arthur "Torq" Torqinski was as smart as he was tough, and had long grown used to my patented brand of humor. He just shook his head and eyed Andrea.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Torq, this is Andrea." I left out the last name. "Andrea, meet Arthur Torqinski, or just Torq. He was an army man for a couple years after the war then went off with aspirations of being one of the 'good' mercs. Who'd you end up joining anyway?"

His face fell a bit. "The Guardians."

Good one, Gage. I sighed. "Damn, I'm sorry, man. We saw the video. What happened?"

"Not much to tell, really. We all vowed to take McCloud's side in this war, like the bastard on the tape said. We hardly saw it coming. Fighters, ships, soldiers from every evil merc group in the galaxy overwhelmed us. Most of us were killed outright, a dozen or so captured. Me and a few others managed to make it here, and the admiral said we could stay until they head back to Corneria." His eyes grew distant. "I never want to see anything like that again."

"I'll bet." What else is there to say to that?

He shook his head. "But anyway...what about you? What are you doing here, or is that top secret?"

"McCloud also. Me and Andrea were helping him out, but some bad shit was posted up on MercNet. He got suspicious of me." I shook my head. "Truthfully, I can't even think of anyone besides me who would have that kind of information. Guess I can't blame him."

"Seems the whole galaxy is revolving around this little war," he said with a small grin.

"No kidding. Well, we're hunkering down here a bit so I can keep an eye on him. I know he's going to make a move on the Warriors on Katina, and believe me, this guy needs a guardian angel to make sure he doesn't get himself waxed."

Torq chuckled and punched me in the arm. His playful punches hurt more than most people's most powerful right hooks. "That's why I respect you, man. Loyal to the end. Well, hey, keep safe. Maybe we can get a beer in the lounge later, eh? And if you're going after the mercs and need a right-hand man, come get me. I've been itching to get back out there."

"No problem." I gave a little wave as he nodded to Andrea and left.

Andrea chuckled when we were alone again. "Are all your buddies soldiers?"

"Actually, yeah." I slid the spent energy clip out of my pistol and started to take the gun apart for cleaning. I vowed a long time ago not to die because my gun was crusty. "Maybe it's because it's all I've known since high school. Or maybe it's instinct. I like having people around me who I know can cover my ass."

"Yeah?" She followed suit, though I could tell from the sporadic glances at my work that she wasn't a chronic gun-cleaner. "So you think I can hold my own?"

"Who said you were my friend?"

I expected a scoff or another graceful rude gesture, but instead she looked up with something between surprise and concern. Once she saw my little grin, she smiled back and relaxed. I suddenly realized how glad I was to have here there. For a good part of my life, I'd been sort of a loner. Outside of my team, I didn't talk to anyone and walked around with downcast eyes. I wanted nothing to do with anything around me, and I thought I was happy that way. Keep things simple. But I don't know...after spending these days on the cruiser with Andrea, I started wishing I had known her sooner.

"You look over the new equipment more?" she asked, finishing up her cleaning.

I blinked and my eyes focused again. Heavy thinking and a disassembled weapon didn't go well together. "Yeah. I found a light-shader option on the newer software that might do something. But...it's complicated. Don't get your hopes up."

"I never do."

* * *

_McMarthen Base, Fortuna  
At the same time_

I don't cry much. I used to think that my personal reservoirs turned bone-dry after my father's death. But that wasn't it. After that, I just couldn't find anything to cry over. No one close to me was hurt, and I was toughened by the war. The war made me feel like fighting, not like crying. Even at the hardest parts, when all seemed lost or when it looked like an entire battle rested on my shoulders, I took it and stood to the task. Pressure? Hell yes. But there was something above that pressure that kept me going.

I sat in the command center of the empty base, watching snow blur in the wind outside the large window, and I thought about what it could have been. It was nearly two hours before I figured it out, and it put me in no better mood. Back then, I had backing. No matter the difficulty of the battle, I knew I was fighting for a just cause, I knew my wingmen would be there for me, and I knew the allied planets of Lylat were cheering me on and rooting for me. Now...what did I have? I had myself, alone in a base on Fortuna, my team imprisoned, a best friend a probable traitor, and the people who I thought supported me out for my blood because of money. What was I fighting for? Why?

And I cried now. I didn't sob, weep, blubber, or any of that. I just sat in the dim orange light of the Fortuna evening, staring out at the endless wasteland, and tears ran down my cheeks. I never thought Gage would turn on me, especially after his little speech back on Corneria. The emotional side of my brain couldn't believe what I had done. I didn't honestly believe Gage betrayed me. But the logical side begged to differ. Nobody else could have known all that, nobody else knew about MercNet, and besides...if the entire galaxy betrayed me, why not a friend?

But I still had one thing going for me. My team was suffering out there because of these mercs, and that was enough to keep me moving, keep me planning, and keep me training. I had enough resources in the base to give me all the information I needed on the Warriors on Katina. The army database that held the tabs on every merc group out there was readily available in the Mac. The Warriors operated openly all over Katina, but transmission recordings were thickest in a small island group off the coast of a western continent. Officially, the place was your typical tropical paradise with no inhabitants, but satellite imagery clearly showed a series of buildings under construction by the Warriors. When I looked up the date the video proclaiming my team prisoners was released, I saw the clincher: a large boat convoy and radio recordings of a "special shipment."

I uploaded all the necessary data to my Arwing and, for the first time in my life, I skipped the ops center. Though it was only a construction yard, normally I would have planned. But I didn't need a plan. I didn't need to figure out landing zones, security grids, points of entry, or anything else the maps could offer. Looking back, I suppose there was a very small suicidal thought to what I did, but my anger had taken over and fear for my life had dissipated. I knew exactly what I would do. I would fly down to the islands in my Arwing, blow up anything that moved, and move to the dock the convoy stopped at. Then I would find my team. And God have mercy on the poor son of a bitch that gets in my way, because I sure won't.

* * *

_CNS Solar Wind  
Forty minutes later_

"Gage, he's moving."

I looked up from the console screen and rubbed my eyes. Now I know why techies wear glasses. I turned in my chair to see Andrea standing at the doorway of the A/V research lab, an alarmed look on her face. I should've known what she was talking about, but I suppose staring at the damn video and playing with every light angle around our pal the Shadow fried a few brain cells. "What?"

"Fox, dammit, he left the Mac. The radar guys picked him up a half hour ago. Two guesses where he was heading."

I sighed. At least I could answer that. "Katina."

She nodded. "What do you want to do?"

What did I want to do? Wake up in my billion-credit mansion and realize this is all a bad dream. But I wished for that enough times to know it wasn't true. I thought for a moment. "Find Torq, ask him if he wants to go for a little jaunt, then meet me back here. I might've found something and I want to toy with it for a bit longer."

She nodded again and ran off. Rubbing my eyes one more time, I turned back to the screen and the second video. What I found might not appear like much; just a flash of light refracted when the Shadow held out his hand to show the StarFox emblems. The kicker was that the refracted light, for a split second, flashed against another figure. There was someone slightly behind the Shadow; bodyguard, crony, loot-carrier, who knew? In a lesser station, I wouldn't have been able to find out, but the cruiser was equipped for deep analysis. I was set. All I had to do was expand the refracted light over the entire figure and it would "nullify the black spectrum filters." If I translated the gibberish from the user manual right, it meant it would bring the figure into light.

After a few clicks, the light began to spread. I would've popped some champagne if I had some handy. I leaned forward in anticipation and didn't blink. Finally, one of our enemies would be made concrete and I could get a real investigation going.

Boots...legs...nothing big. Tail hidden behind the Shadow. Folded arms...that jacket sure looked familiar. As the light started to creep up the neck, I felt a deep pit in my stomach and I swallowed hard. No way...it couldn't be. The light finished its journey. I sat and stared with my jaw hitting the floor. I didn't even notice when Andrea walked in. I finally felt her hand on my shoulder, but then she also stood stock still, probably stupefied by the figure on the screen as well.

"Oh, shit..." she whispered first. "Oh...holy shit."

I snapped out of it. Fox had no idea! I jumped up, sending the chair toppling over with a crash. "Get a ship and grab anything you can from the armory! We gotta get to Katina! We have to warn Fox! Now!"

_--Chapter 8 coming soon--_


	8. Bitter Dawn

-Author's Note: Determined not to have a repeat of Hatred Falls, I pushed aside my other work for a day and sat down to at least get the cliffhanger settled. To all who did not see my previous note, I sincerely apologize for the delay due to tons of other work, but trust that the story will not die. I'm diverting a bit from my usual plan of half a chapter from Fox's view and half from Gage's, so this slightly shorter than usual chapter is all Fox and Chapter 9 will be all from Gage. Have no fear, there's a method to my madness. Thanks for reading and enjoy-Foxmerc-

CHAPTER 8  
Bitter Dawn  
_Katina  
0623 hours_

I watched the blood red tropical dawn outside my Arwing's canopy with an otherworldly fascination. Most of Katina was desert, but the southern hemisphere melted into blue-green water and palm tree-covered islands that would make a travel agent's dream brochure. The surreal glow of the disturbingly peaceful scenery only added to the dream-like state I felt myself in. The sting of Gage's betrayal still pierced my mind; his own words, the loss of a brother, said it best, and for the first time in years, I felt truly alone. I felt the galaxy squeezing me, every sentient being itching to kill me, no one to trust. Only the trust of my team remained, and they suffered in a prison somewhere in that beautiful string of islands because of me. If the galaxy was going to take me down – and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that my death would come soon – then my final actions would assure that my last friends would not come down with me.

A feeling had haunted me the whole time during that long trip to Katina…a twisting pain in the pit of my stomach, one all too familiar that I prayed I would never feel again. I was young when I last felt it, a student instead of a fighter, a normal teenage boy instead of an orphan. I wasn't able to do anything back then after my parents' deaths; I had to sit and take the pain, whimpering like a baby, waiting for my chance at Andross. Not this time. My friend betrayed me, my team was on the brink of death, and that pain would be the fuel I needed. This time, I could take action. I glanced at the small stowage space behind my seat. I must have stuck half the Great Fox's armory in there, and I knew I would be going back home with much less ammo.

The rhythmic beeping on the map monitor sped up. The coordinates I downloaded with the base's location were coming up fast. My heart upped its pace to match the beeping as I looked out over the water and spotted a square landing pad on a small island's cluttered shore. The guide lights were on, as if welcoming me aboard. I squinted and saw that only a hundred or so yards inland from the pad was a small compound of a few shaky buildings and half a dozen or so trucks. Construction material sat in heaps around the compound. Looked like the Warriors hadn't completely set up shop yet. My mental query as to what the hell they were building lasted only a moment; the back of the compound was bordered by the large mountain that practically made up the island. A thick reinforced steel door was stuck in the mountainside like a cold mouth on the stone face. If anything important was hanging around, like certain valuable pilots for example, it would be there. At the very least, there would be more Warriors to kill.

A few scout fighters lazily patrolled the shore around the landing pad like seagulls. As I approached, they turned towards me and my radio crackled to life.

"Unidentified fighter, you have entered Warrior territory. Leave now or you will be fired upon."

My response was a bit shorter and to the point. The lead fighter took my laser blast up the nose and fell to the ocean in a ball of fire. The other two stunned pilots joined him before they could even think of maneuvering. The last pilot only managed to yelp out one line before he bit the dust.

"Shit, it's him!"

Fear. There was fear in that voice. Perhaps the tale of what I had done to the Viper's Kiss had spread throughout the mercenary world. Well, I didn't object. The edge that Gage had talked about what seemed like ages ago, the edge that a man could be pushed over where he has no fear for his own life, only a set view on his goal, to be achieved by whatever means necessary, had been reached. They had every reason to be fearful.

Mercs below scrambled like ants, abandoning the compound and retreating to the steel door that led into the mountain. I spotted two anti-aircraft guns, but only one seemed operational. Hardly a match for a volley from my guns. I took my time landing on the pad. The warm tropical air greeted me as my canopy opened. I climbed down with my bagged arsenal and looked around, mildly disappointed that there was no one left this side of the steel door. I nonchalantly took my jacket off in the heat and tossed it to the floor. Judging from how many mercs fled, I knew there would be more inside. I'd have to take everything. It was more weaponry than I'd ever carried before, but then again, this was more of an army than I'd ever taken on before. On land, at least.

My traditional pistol and his twin found homes in my two thigh holsters. I took the ludicrously powerful handgun that Falco loves so much and stuck it in a shoulder holster. Never know when some power might come in handy. The assault rifle that I learned to love back in the merc ambush on Corneria went strapped to my back. Half a dozen grenades dangled from my light armor vest. To top it off, besides the loads of ammo, the same model of little full-auto beauties that I picked off my assailants in the subway, one in each fist. If nothing else, at least the mercs taught me an appreciation for certain weaponry.

Loaded up for a nice, long hunt, I entered the compound, wary of any ballsy stragglers that felt like being heroes. I didn't need to go up to the door to know that it required access that I didn't have before it would open. And I definitely didn't need X-ray vision to know that there would be a welcoming committee on the other side. Even the burn of vengeance knows its limit.

I smelled my own method of entry, however. No one hangs around an aircraft hangar without witnessing the stench of jet propellant, and no one touches the caustic liquid without remembering it forever. Slippy's tales of what he'd seen that stuff do put a wicked smile on my muzzle. I turned to the row of trucks and saw that all except one were empty flatbeds. That last one, though, was a full tanker of jet propellant.

It was a simple matter of searching the teetering shacks for the keys. They were uncaringly tossed on a table. I drove the truck out and pointed it square at the door, then retrieved a cinder block from the construction piles. Letting the truck smash into the door probably would have done the trick, but if there was ever a time to be overkill, it was that morning. I dropped the block on the gas pedal and wedged a grenade behind the cab as the mobile bomb sped off. Then I ran.

A brilliant explosion lit up the shady dawn. The heat swept all the way back to the landing pad, though I was too awed to care. The truck's burning husk melted under the legendary heat of burning jet propellant. It took longer on the door, but after a good ten minutes, my little bonfire had reduced the door to a puddle of metal.

Random lasers pierced the wall of smoke. I answered with a lobbed grenade. It exploded in a way that I couldn't take seriously after the jet propellant, but it stopped the laser fire. I knew I should have waited for the smoke to clear, should have held fast until I could actually see what was waiting for me on the other side. But I didn't. I stepped through the smoke and shimmered into view on the other side like a vengeful phoenix. The half-dozen mercs cowering amongst the charred and bloody corpses of their comrades must have had their own horrific images; they stared with gaping jaws and wide eyes. I didn't hesitate. I let loose with the submachine guns before they could blink. One tried to run and got a string of lasers in the back. As I looked around the long metallic corridor for more fodder, a voice choked with fear pierced my burning rage.

"Wait, wait! I give up! Don't kill me!"

A young tiger was on his knees before me, his eyes wet, his Warrior uniform marred by smoke and blood from one of his dearly departed teammates. He raised his quaking hands high over his head. I had the impulse to shoot him on the spot, but enough of my tactical brain was functioning. I instead dropped my left gun, grabbed him up the collar with my free hand, and dragged him to the nearby wall. Before he could squeak out a sound, I smashed his face against the metal and held the barrel of my gun to the back of his head.

"It's a lovely morning out there," I said calmly. "I suggest you answer my questions if you want to live to see it."

He hesitated a moment, but finally nodded weakly.

"You know who I am. Where are you holding my team?"

He swallowed. I wasn't in the mood. I pulled his head back roughly by the ear and smashed his face against the metal again. "Where, dammit!"

"Stop! Please! They'll kill me if I tell you."

"I'll make you wish for death if you don't spill it."

He only had to sniff in the stench of burning fur again to know that I wasn't joking. Finally, he gestured down the corridor and said in a half-whisper, "Only part of the base is constructed. They're down that hall. Take a right at the end and there's an elevator down to the holding cells."

"How many of you assholes are down there?"

He hesitated.

"How many!"

"I don't know!" He shuddered. "Maybe five, six. Everyone's on the other end if the island, prepping the convoy. We were going to move the prisoners, but…" He trailed off.

I got all I needed from him. My finger tightened around the trigger, but it stopped. My God, he was too young for this. Late teens, early twenties tops. I knew what it was like. My red haze of anger faltered for a moment. Who could he be…a rebellious kid who ran away from home maybe? Someone who got into the wrong crowd at school and was waiting to learn his first life lesson? Maybe an adventurous boy who was fooled into the wrong kind of adventure? I tried shoving these out of my head, reminded myself that he would have killed me and my team, but instead a new voice entered my head. Gage once again, over a year ago, talking about his battles in the war. One line had apparently refused to be forgotten by time.

_"Fate didn't choose our sides. We did. We're part of the good guys, Fox, you and me, and that can never change. We can get lost along the way, but that path will always lead back to our true purposes."_

I had killed before. If that puddle of a door behind me was standing again between me and my team, then I would destroy it again and shoot anyone who wanted to stop me. I had done that plenty in my life, and that didn't drag me from the "good guy" side. But standing in that acrid hallway with the quivering kid under my gun, my finger was squeezing the trigger halfway towards what I would never have done, what I would have always equated with the bad guys. My finger relaxed.

I didn't get a chance to do anything more. A laser scorched the metal by my face and I spun to see two mercs rushing around the corner down the corridor. They shouldered their rifles and my instincts kicked in. I rolled behind one of the crates the mercs were using for cover as the air filled with searing light. The tiger didn't make it. I don't know what made me think these fucking scumbags would care about their own, but I had to swallow renewed rage as the kid hit the deck with three holes in him.

I dropped the submachine gun and pulled out the monster of a handgun that Falco preferred. One thing it had going for it, it was accurate, and I was about to count on that. I rested the gun on top of the crate and took careful aim, ignoring the bursts of inaccurate rifle fire. Two shots, two dead mercs. I holstered the pistol and pulled forward my own assault rifle.

One of the newly dead Warriors had a keycard on him. The simple lettering "Prison Block" told me that I should probably take it with me. After a short elevator ride down into the island, I came fact to face with a door that needed it. The powers that be finally decided to cut me a break. I shouldered the rifle, ready for an army, and was only greeted by two unaware guards that fell to bursts from my assault rifle. They stood in the middle of a long row of cells, but not modern like the surface. They were reminiscent of old movies with stone and bare mountain rock as the walls and metal bars instead of energy fields. If there was any merciful side to these merc groups, I had yet to see it.

"Who's there? Who is that?"

I had never been so happy to hear that squeaky voice. "Slippy?"

"Fox!"

I jogged forward, scanning the empty cells until I found the right one. My newfound joy was short-lived. Slippy stood at the bars, looking more haggard than I'd ever seen him, even after he stayed up three nights in a row to fix major damage on the Great Fox. Peppy lay on the hard bench, not looking much better. Falco…

"Where's Falco?" I asked, a bit alarmed.

Slippy's face fell and my heart wrenched. Had they already killed him? I hit the lock release on the wall and pulled the heavy barred door open.

"Fox…" Slippy replied in a low voice.

"Don't worry, I'll find him. He might be okay."

"No, Fox." He took my arm. The usually bright eyes looked at me with an eerie somberness. "Falco's fine. He…he…"

It all hit me at once, knocking my breath out. My mind whirled back to all the events that had led up to that moment. How could the Vipers have the code to the Great Fox's defense grid to bypass it and insert Angela? Who could have known the location of my team? They weren't captured…they were handed over. Who else knew that I called my Arwing Lightning at one time? Who else could have made that list I found on MercNet? Gage was innocent…he was true all along.

I couldn't believe it. I backed up the wall and sank to a sitting position on the cold ground, my eyes blank. Falco and I had some problems in the past…hell, we still had problems from time to time, but not problems that would warrant this. He nearly killed us all, but why? I was numb. I should have been angered to all hell, but I was numb. I eventually became aware of Slippy talking to me and pointing to Peppy.

"…too old to take this. I don't know if he'll make it."

I stood and walked over to the old hare. He was in a fitful sleep. His pulse was weak and his breath came in short rasps. My vision became blurred. I wiped the tears away and shook my head. I was no medical man, but I knew it was bad. The only thing I could do was get them out of there. I pulled my handgun free…Falco's handgun…and handed it to Slippy. "Stay with him and stay here. Where's Falco?"

"They didn't trust him. He's locked up also until all this is done." Slippy scoffed. "They never had the intentions to pay anyone. He's through there, in the adjacent block." He hesitated. "What are you going to do?"

I answered honestly. "I don't know."

I walked through the door at the end of the cell block, hardly caring if there were guards on the other side. There weren't. Falco was in the last cell, sitting on the bench, his head bowed. It shot up as I approached. I was used to confronting enemies. They always looked at me with malice, a taunting sneer, or something else that made it quite clear that they were my enemy. I expected the same from Falco, perhaps a speech about how "I should have been the leader, pitiful fox!" But instead he stared up at me with a reflected somberness. We each waited for the other to speak. Finally, I hit the door release and pulled the door open. If he wanted to kill me, he had every chance. When minutes passed without a word, I pulled one of my pistols free and held it limply at my side. He looked as if he expected that.

"Why did you join StarFox, Falco?" I asked in a near whisper. I feared my voice would crack if I tried louder. When he didn't answer, I repeated the question.

"Because," he started in a similarly low tone. "Because you were my only friends."

"Is that all?"

He hesitated a moment. "Money."

"Which was the greater reason?"

"We've had our downs," he responded. "We've had times where…where the team was nearly broke. I still stayed." For the first time in my life, I saw a tear slide down that blue cheek. "I don't know what happened this time. I never intended for them to get hurt…Peppy and Slippy."

"Just me?"

He glanced up at me, then returned his eyes to the ground. "He offered too much. This unreal amount. I was intoxicated, but it wore off. By time I could think straight…it was too late to take it all back, to undo what I did. God…God, I'm so sorry, Fox. I fucked things up bad."

_We can get lost along the way…_

I stood looking at the top of his head for a long time. Finally, I unholstered my other pistol. The rest of my team needed me. It was time to end it. I raised my left gun and tossed it at his feet. He looked up at me with surprise.

"Most are at the other end of the island," I said slowly, still cautious of my voice. "I'm walking back to my ship, and I'm not looking back. You have my back to shoot if you want to collect in on the payment. Otherwise, find a way out of here. Falco…I never want to see you again. If I do, you better be armed."

"Fox…"

I turned and walked away. I heard a gentle scraping as he picked the gun up off the floor. But that was the last thing I heard. I crossed the door at the end of the block alive. Slippy waited with an expectant face. I simply said, "Let's get out of here. Help me with Peppy."

-_Chapter 9 coming soon-_


	9. Trouble in Paradise

-Author's Note: I'm thankfully able to get this update out much sooner than the last one, albeit once again shorter than I would have liked. However, the next and following chapters will be back to the normal half Fox/half Gage setup. As always, thank you for the reviews and continued readership. Thanks for reading and enjoy-Foxmerc-

CHAPTER 9  
Trouble in Paradise  
_Warrior construction site, Katina  
0722 hours_

"Can't this thing go any faster?"

Arthur "Torq" Torqinski gave me an annoyed glance over his shoulder from the pilot's seat and said, "For the bloody last time, Gage, it's a dropship, not a fighter. I'm pushing it as far is it'll go."

"Anything on the comm yet?"

"Lots of chatter from the Warriors. They're scrambling defenses, talking about McCloud." He hesitated. "I can't raise Fox."

"Keep trying." I sighed. "And pray he didn't find Lombardi yet. The damn bird has the drop."

I double and triple-checked my gear until I was satisfied that I could take on any kind of army they had down there; the standard Dagger loadout proved sufficient, as usual: the black jumpsuit and load-bearing harness that felt like a second layer of skin by now, good ole Black Beauty on my hip, and an assault rifle rested across my lap. I didn't have an extra suit with me, so Andrea borrowed some standard army gear from the _Solar Wind. _I was still surprised; she could make anything look good. I looked up to see her fiddling with her own rifle on the other side of the vacant dropship; not the kind of fiddle to fix something, but the kind a nervous finger does when the mind is deep in worry.

"You okay?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

She nodded, keeping her eyes down. "Just thinking about how Fox will feel when he finds out Falco betrayed him."

"Probably like how he felt when he thought I did, if not more. Falco was one of his oldest friends, not to mention his teammate." I added after a moment, "You know, you don't have to do this. Who knows what kind of storm Fox has stirred up down there? And you're not exactly a combat veteran."

God help me, I was starting to sound like Fox.

She looked up at me with pursed lips and a scrunched nose and said, "I saved your ass in that bar in Harverton, so don't give me that. Besides, this is the first time I…well…it's the first time I've wanted to risk my life for someone."

She looked down again. I don't know whether she meant me or Fox, or maybe both, but I left it at that. Fortunately, Torq broke the tense air with some good news.

"Look alive back there! The island's in view and I just picked up Fox's signal. Patching him through to your radio now, private signal. Get him to guide me in."

I stood with a start, grabbed a beam above me to keep me steady, and put my hand to my ear. At first, all I got was static, but after repeating his name a dozen times, a faint voice finally broke through. I tried again.

"Fox? Fox, do you read me?"

"Gage? Is that you?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. "What the hell were you thinking coming here alone? Listen Fox, I've got to tell you something. We found out who—"

"I know," he replied softly. "I let him go. I…I saw him, and…Gage, I'm sorry."

I didn't know quite how to respond. It was good news that it didn't affect him so badly that he blew his own brains out, but it couldn't be good for his current mentality in a battle situation. Dagger training kicked in. "You can apologize later. We have to get you out of there, so focus for now, alright? What's your status?"

Silence for a moment. "Not too good. I have Peppy and Slippy with me, but Peppy's in bad shape. I got cut off from my Arwing, and now the whole base is on alert."

I hurried to the cockpit and looked out over the island. Torq began a slow circling of it. I saw the landing pad with Fox's ship, but the mercs were all over it like ants on honey. Around the other end of the island, the large mountain in the middle gave way to a stretch of flat land covered with crude construction rigging. It looked like they were building some kind of base, but were early in production. Past the construction yard was the shore, complete with a large harbor accommodating half a dozen small patrol boats. Definitely enough room to land there.

Only problem was the couple dozen mercs in the construction yard that didn't feel like letting their guest depart. We'd have to gently persuade them.

"Ok, listen up, Fox. Make your way to the east exit, but watch for multiple hostiles. Our pilot's going to land at the harbor and pick you up. Andrea and I will cover you from above. Got it?"

"Yeah." A burst of gunfire crackled across the comm line. "Tell me when to come out."

I tapped Torq on the shoulder and pointed to the construction scaffold. "Drop me there, and drop Andrea on the other side. We'll cover him from there. Make a hot landing on the harbor once he's across."

He nodded.

Time for a little modification. Thanking the brass once again for making multi-role training a requirement in Dagger, I dropped my assault rifle on my seat and retrieved a sniper rifle. I loaded up on ammo and tossed a second one to Andrea. "You know how to fire one of these?"

She took it and looked it over with an almost confident air that I hadn't seen in her yet. "I'm a fast learner."

"Simple. Put the crosshairs over whatever you want to stop moving, pull the trigger. Twenty shots in a mag. Fire after an exhale, not an inhale. If you have to miss, miss low, don't go for the head. Check your surroundings every few seconds for anyone sneaking up on you."

She nodded.

Gunfire pinged off the dropship's hull as Torq slowed down over the first high scaffolding. I secured the sniper rifle over my back. I released the ship's door, inviting in a blast of warm air, and hesitated not a moment before grabbing a coiled zipline and leaping out. The cord burned my gloves all the way down until I alit soft as a bird on the coarse wooden scaffold. I immediately fell to my stomach and readied the sniper rifle as some of the mercs turned their attention to me. I was counting on that; I had a feeling Andrea's entrance wouldn't be quite as graceful as mine and enemy fire wouldn't help. Torq flew to the other scaffold a couple hundred yards across from me and a second zipline fell from the door. Will wonders never cease; she landed hard, but on her feet nonetheless, and took my cue of immediately hitting the deck. The dropship left to circle the island.

I felt like a kid in a candy store with all the targets below me, none even having a chance of hitting me with the way they were aiming. I pulled out the rifle's bipod, rested it on the edge, thumbed the safety off, and looked through the scope. Normally, the scope would have to be calibrated back at base to make sure it was aligned, but being the weapon switch was improvised, I decided to test it out on one of the mercs. I took careful aim and fired. The sand and rock around him exploded in a splash of red and he dropped. Perfect.

I heard a similar shot and looked up to see Andrea recovering from the kick of her own rifle. No merc joined my dead target on the ground. I was starting to regret letting her come along when she fired again and a merc crouching behind a pile of cinder blocks fell, arms wrapped around his stomach. He writhed for a moment, then lay still. Maybe she really was a fast learner.

"Fox, we're in position. Use the construction vehicles and supplies as cover and keep moving."

"Right. Coming out."

The heavy steel door in the mountain lumbered open. It diverted some of the mercs' attention, giving me a couple clean shots. A particularly messy shot blew half a wolf's head off. I groaned; it was that shit that made me hate my job some days, especially sniping. The scope gives me center seat to all the crap I'd rather not see. It never got any easier, even after all these years.

Fox came through the door a bit slower than I would have liked, but I couldn't blame him; he had Peppy Hare draped over his shoulder like an overweight scarf. Slippy trailed, firing a pistol. It almost looked comical, but there was nothing remotely funny about the situation. The trio crouched behind a stack of crates as a few mercs took aim and fired. I fired back for Fox, nailing two in the back. A few were starting to get gutsy and grouped in the center. I knew the beginnings of a flank attack when I saw one.

"Fox, do you have any grenades?"

"Yeah, a couple."

"You got a bunch straight ahead of you. Toss one over your crate."

After a few seconds, a little black dot sailed over the crate and landed at the feet of the lead merc. They all dove for cover and I averted my scope. We waited…and waited. I cursed and put the scope back over the grenade.

"Dammit, dud," Fox said. "I have one more. Are they still there? Should I throw again?"

The scared mercs scoffed and moved back to their cover. I put a steady bead on the tiny grenade.

"No," I replied, "that's alright."

I exhaled and fired. The grenade exploded with gratifying heat, clearing a nice path through the mercs for Fox to head up to more cover.

"Move up," I said.

As he did so, I noticed shots coming at me, but from level ground. I peered over the scope and saw Andrea aiming at my scaffold. A couple more shots passed under me.

"Andrea, what the hell are you shooting at—"

A final shot and my question was answered. With a yelp, a merc fell from the scaffold and landed with a thud on the ground. The sneaky bastard had been trying to get up at me.

"That's two you owe me now," she said over the comm.

I grunted and returned my attention to Fox, but took the new knowledge and kept an eye on Andrea's scaffold. The rest of the mercs must have seen the one that learned the hard way and kept on the ground. Their shots were getting closer, and I was starting to get nervous. When one shot pulverized the wooden plank next to me and singed my fur, I turned my attention to the mercs shooting at me and let Fox lay low for a minute. Things were quickly becoming unacceptable. The Warriors were adapting, and we wouldn't last much longer without one getting off a good or lucky shot.

"Fox," I said, scanning the area through the scope, "you gotta move. Can you trust me?"

A moment of hesitation. "Yes."

"Then take your team and get to the harbor as fast as you can. Stop for nothing. Don't take cover. Leave the mercs to me and Andrea. Okay?"

The familiar deep breath of a man who knew well enough that it could be his last. "Yeah."

"Go."

Fresh mag in my rifle, and with the intention to use every last round, I covered Fox as he, Hare over his shoulder, broke cover and ran for the harbor with Slippy in tow. The mercs seemed surprised by the move, but I opened up before they could gather whatever wits they had. My shots were echoed by Andrea's rifle, and I saw a few fall by her fire. Complete instinct took over. If a brow twitched, an arm raised, or a foot pivoted in Fox's direction, I snapped the crosshairs to the poor sap's chest and fired. It was too close to my taste, some coming within arm's reach or level aim of Fox, but I kept up with it.

In fact, I suppose Andrea and I were a pit too engrossed…

I heard a creak behind me and looked over my shoulder. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of a gaping pistol barrel with a burly cougar behind it. Fortunately, combat instinct was still on at full gear. I whipped my head back and felt the burning heat of the laser as it barely missed. I kept rolling into a kick that punted the pistol over the edge, but this merc wasn't done yet. The damn sniper rifle was too bulky to bring up quickly and the cougar knocked it away with ease. He pulled a knife from his belt and lunged, but that day I stuck by my philosophy of always being prepared. I pulled my own knife from my boot and shoved it into the unsuspecting throat as the Warrior came down on me. He gave a short gurgle of surprise and his blade clattered to the scaffold. I pushed the load off me and rolled back over to retrieve my rifle, but the bastard had knocked it over the edge. I suddenly felt very naked.

"Gage!"

"Gage, behind me!"

It was like a nightmare coming true. Across the way, another couple ballsy mercs had made their way up to Andrea. She managed to off one, but the other grabbed her and they were struggling. Below, at least three mercs tailed Fox out of the construction site and into the harbor. He had no defense on the bare docks. With a deep breath, I pulled out the only weapon left with a chance in hell: Black Beauty.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, the island lay before me in silence, as if time had been slowed down. I could never forget the hours upon hours of focus exercises. A gun was only as good as the soldier firing it. I no longer felt my hand; simply a run-on from the flesh in my arm to its extension, the gun. I raised it towards Andrea and leveled the sites. She and her assailant were two specks in the distance, but still visible, and if it was visible, it could be shot. I kept my arms firm and my eye unwavering, waiting for the opportune moment. Finally, Andrea landed a good knee to the merc's stomach and he doubled back. I fired once. He fell to the deck under Andrea's shocked stare.

I didn't hesitate; I shifted my aim to Fox. He was further away with moving targets behind him. After a moment, I said, "Fox, stop and turn around."

I guess he really did trust me again. He immediately did so, Slippy careening into him, and the three mercs halted as well. Much better. I fired three quick taps. Two fell, but the last one still stood and looked around. I tried to re-steady my aim, but before I could, a final shot took the remaining merc down. Andrea had recovered and had her rifle back against her shoulder.

I lowered my pistol and let out a breath of relief. Fox continued to where Torq waited with the dropship and loaded up. Any remaining mercs must have figured they'd had it; the gunfire stopped and the few remnants retreated back inside. I'd read up on the Warrior's numbers, and that fight was a severe cripple, not including whatever damage Fox did. I holstered my pistol with satisfaction and waited for Torq to get me. For the first time, I noticed the beautiful breeze and gazed at the dawn sun over the water. If only all my fights could be in such nice places. Maybe one day I wouldn't have to count on a battle to travel to somewhere like this.

_-Chapter 10 coming soon-_


	10. The Face of Evil

Author's Note: And Chapter 10 is here, sort of the beginning of the end, though still more chapters to come. As always, my appreciation for the reviews. Thanks for reading and enjoy-Foxmerc

CHAPTER 10  
The Face of Evil  
_Solar Wind, Solar orbit  
2312 hours_

I remember once, years ago after a tough ground job, I was badly injured in the stomach by some shrapnel and suffered blood loss. I remember the sensation of losing and gaining consciousness like it was yesterday. I don't think I could ever forget something like that. I remember I lost consciousness with Peppy hovering over me, a wildly scared look deep in those baggy eyes. I awoke in the Great Fox's infirmary to that same face and same expression. He had sat with me for nearly six hours with a fatherly concern. Tears fell from his eyes when I finally awoke.

I didn't wait for him to awake before my tears came.

I didn't bawl; I hadn't truly cried for years. But my vision blurred and small drops fell to the crisp white sheet on Peppy's hospital bed. His chest rose and fell with a shallow rhythm. The _Solar Wind's_ doctor had diagnosed a hemorrhage. He had been beaten severely by the Warriors or someone else in on this war, and at his age, his organs couldn't take it. They had no way to stop the internal bleeding without a major surgery that had as much chance to kill him as save him. I knew then how Peppy felt looking at me that day; the father figure to the son figure, now the son to the father. Only Peppy didn't have a good chance of opening his eyes and letting the floodgates of my worry open and release relief.

I felt almost numb towards Falco. I always thought us to be good friends, childhood comrades, soldiers watching each others' backs. But as was popular for military types and critics to say, a mercenary was a mercenary. Falco followed the money. There was genuine regret in his tone; I didn't live with him that many years without getting to know true emotion on him when I saw it. Ironically, Peppy, the man inadvertently suffering from his actions, put it best back when Falco first joined the team:

"He's a hero who was raised a villain."

I knew Falco's nature. He had a good heart, but his sordid past wreaked havoc on his every action. Despite that, I didn't know if I could ever forgive him. I needed time, time for the numbness to leave and let my true thoughts come through.

I became aware of a presence behind me. The doctor, an elderly toad with a voice too low for his small height, stood in the doorway, clasping a clipboard in front of him.

"You need rest, Mr. McCloud," he said in a slightly exasperated way. "I'm keeping careful watch over him, and Mr. Toad is sleeping like a log in the next room. There's nothing left for you to do."

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, realizing I hadn't blinked in a long time. "Have you seen Captain Birse?"

His brow lowered as if I'd just told an anti-toad joke. "Ah, yes. That reminds me, I must prepare every examining table in here tonight."

I raised my eyebrow in questioning.

"Ever since the _Solar Wind_ took on the Eighth Special Forces group, I've been busy on the weekends. It seems they became bored with no training facilities of their own, so they made one themselves. They get together anyone off-duty on weekend nights on the ship and go to the sparring room for some…wagers. Wagers that force me to stay here all night because someone unavoidably always comes in with a broken this or sprained that." He rolled his eyes. "No doubt, you'll find Mr. Birse there. I know the crewmen have to unwind, but I wish they'd just get a ping-pong table or something."

No argument from me. If there was brawling within a mile radius of Gage, he'd be there in two seconds. I thanked the doctor, wished him well with the night, gave one last hopeful glance to Peppy, then left.

With it being the late hours of the night, according to the time zone they followed anyway, the corridors were practically empty, made more so by this apparently popular even the doctor spoke of. As I neared the sparring room – a large training room that I'd love to get on the Great Fox, but which we would have no space for – I felt a pulsing vibration. It got louder the closer I got and I finally realized that someone must have a really nice stereo or boombox or something. The door slid open and the techno-ish music blared into the serene corridor. Practically leaning into it like a strong wind, I entered to the sound of cheers and shouts, the tangy odor of work sweat, and the sight of dozens of crew and soldiers with fists pumping in the air.

I pushed my way to a spot where I could get a view. The crowd hugged the wall and created a manmade arena in the middle of the sparring room. The mat was streaked with glistening sweat and a few spots of blood. And in the center of it all, of course, was Gage. He stood shirtless, sweat matting his fur, his tags dangling around his neck, and a small stream of blood from his forehead. There was fire in his eye as he looked down in triumphant sternness at his unfortunate opponent. The poor feline crewman's face looked like something served in the mess hall that day. He tapped the mat, giving the surrender symbol, and another wave of cheers erupted. Gage relaxed his pose and wiped the blood from his forehead. If I had to guess, I'd say Gage hadn't even taken time to breathe since we returned from Katina. I guess some guys need to blow off steam even after an exhausting battle like that.

"I can't believe my eyes!" A voice shouted over the cacophony. As the opponent hobbled away, a young-ish black wolf stepped into the center of the arena. From his dress, he wasn't Solar Wind crew; more than likely part of the specops group the doctor was talking about. He raised his left hand for relative silence, and grabbed and raised Gage's hand with the other. "Never has one fighter gone more than five rounds without a loss! Is there no one here who wants to take a shot? No one who wants to dethrone the new king!"

Nobody responded; smart crowd. It looked like the young wolf was about to take up his own offer when someone stepped through the crowd. I saw it was Torqinski, or Torq as Gage called him. I never properly got a chance to thank him for helping on Katina, but now wasn't the best time. I'd be sure to later. He seemed like a good guy, and a fellow merc who wanted a piece of the Shadow who was after me was always a welcome friend. But right then, it looked like he wanted a piece of Gage.

Torq unbuttoned his shirt nonchalantly with a little grin on his muzzle as if preparing for a friendly round of poker. Gage returned the grin and stretched his arms.

"Well, well!" the wolf shouted. "Arthur Torqinski is next on the slaughtering line. Let's see if he's got the brawn to match the guts."

It seemed like he did from my angle. He looked like a poster boy for a gym, perhaps even as fit as Gage, with a height advantage.

The wolf stepped between them and continued. "Alright guys, keep it clean, respect the tap, halt at bloodshed if the victim calls it, ten seconds flat on the mat is a loss, and remember we're on the same side."

His hand went up and the fight commenced. I hardly had a chance to wonder how badly Gage would beat Torq; the fight was over in a snap, but not as I expected it. Gage hunched into his stance and went for the first punch, but Torq _grabbed _his freaking fist in midair, twisted his arm, and smashed his elbow into Gage's face. Not to go down lightly, Gage took the momentum and spin into a roundhouse kick that that connected solidly with Torq's muzzle. The man barely _flinched. _He dealt his own kick to Gage's chest, and my pal looked like he had been hit by a truck. Torq grabbed him, kicked out his feet, and slammed him into the mat. I knew Gage would never tap out, and apparently so did Torq. The feline put him into a fierce grapple and held him down. Gage struggled with any energy he had left, but he remained captive for the ten seconds. The wolf in charge hit the mat and cheers nearly deafened me.

"Holy shit, man," the wolf said, walking out to Torq as he let Gage go and stood. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Martial arts instructor for the Guardians," Torq replied, still with that small grin.

"Well, damn. I don't think we're gonna find any challengers for you."

"Quite alright. I just wanted to give it a go once."

He turned and held out a hand to Gage, who was still on the ground, breathing heavily. He took the hand and Torq pulled him up like a rag doll. With a concerned look falling over his face, he asked if Gage was alright. Gage nodded with a drunken dizziness, and headed towards the door, calling back that he'd take a rematch any day when he was fresh and not tired after five rounds. The crewmen around the door helped him and patted him on the back on the way out.

I followed him, thankful to finally get away from the noise, and found him leaning against the wall in the empty corridor, chest heaving. A fresh stream of blood had started from his lip.

"You okay?" I asked.

He pounded the wall with his fist and growled. "I should've known better. I knew Torq was the fighting instructor for the Guardians. I didn't know he was that good though. Now look at me. Fucking embarrassment."

"Oh, shut up, you went five rounds in a row." It was useless; he could win a hundred rounds, lose one, and still be pissed. "I'm glad you know him, that's for sure."

"No kidding." He spit and wiped his mouth. "If he decides to stick with us, that fighting power could go a long way. Get us and the Shadow in the same room, and it's over." He looked up at me. "How's Peppy?"

I shrugged and shook my head.

He nodded. "Know what you need?"

"What?"

"You need to kick someone's ass."

I didn't think it possible, but it brought a smile to my face that night. Gage Birse's universal cure: kick someone's ass. "No way. That's not my thing in there."

"Oh, come on. You can hold your own."

"No. I'm tired. Maybe next weekend, if we're still here."

"Alright, alright. Wimp."

I grinned again. He looked up and grinned also. He stood up straight, grabbed me by the shoulder, and pulled me into an embrace. I hugged back. It felt good to have my friend, my brother, back. I wanted to say it before, but I was too embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Gage."

"Hey, man. I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through. When the whole galaxy's at your throat, that can make a guy a little paranoid. You just remember that I'll always be there. You got me, Andrea, Torq, and your team there for you, unquestioning, no matter what. You got that?"

"Yeah."

Andrea chose that tender moment to exit the sparring room, bringing a couple seconds of blaring noise with her. The wolf looked at Gage with an almost motherly concern that turned into a look of annoyance. She touched his forehead where blood was drying and gave him a swift punch in the arm. "Moron! You should've stopped after that fourth round."

"I was doing fine."

She scoffed. "Oh, sure, you were in there for what, fifteen seconds against Torq?"

"He's a martial arts instructor."

She sighed and turned to me. "I'm shocked you knew him this long and he's still alive."

Gage answered before I could. "I'm a hard guy to kill. I'm almost a running gag around the medics back at the Corneria City HQ."

The door slid open again and a couple crewmen exited with nods to Gage. Torq followed and came up to Gage with a look as if one of his stray rounds accidentally pegged him in the leg. He grabbed his shoulder and said, "God, man, I'm sorry about that. I haven't fought in awhile, I thought I'd be a bit more out of practice then that."

Gage shook his head with a bit of an embarrassed expression. "Hey, we fought, you won, no apologies needed. Next weekend, you and me, first thing when we're both fresh." Even he didn't look totally convinced.

Torq nodded. Good sport. "Sure. I didn't even come here to fight, just to find you."

"For what?"

"Well, you all left after we got back from Katina. Took me hell to find out where you went. Who would've thought that after a mission you'd want to come here for more fighting? Anyway, a couple of the tech boys were messing with the program you used to discover…" He hesitated and glanced at me. "The one you used to find out about Falco Lombardi. Well, they couldn't uncover the Shadow, but they hacked into the source pattern field."

He looked at us expectantly. Hell if I knew what that was. "The what?"

"It gives the coordinates of the signal's origin. They traced the video back to its source."

Three sets of eyes and jaws opened. I spoke up first with the obvious question. "What? Where?"

"Corneria. A freighter floating hundreds of miles from any shore. Satellite surveillance shows little activity except for a few fighters coming and going. They've been ID'd as StarWolf."

My eyes instinctively went to Andrea. Her jaw snapped shut, but her face was stern. I couldn't tell whether she was disappointed by the news or happy that we'd be going after her brother. There was an awkward silence before, to our surprise, she said, "When do we go?"

"The ship can be prepped by morning," Torq replied. "I'll fly you out again, if that's alright with you."

Andrea nodded.

"Andrea," I said. "You don't have to go. Gage and I can—"

"See you bright and early." She turned on her heel and walked away.

* * *

_The next morning_

Working in Dagger meant that every enemy was a shadow, a target meant to be taken out. There was never any emotional attachment and never any reason to pussyfoot around the subject of obliterating the opposition. The day after the Katina mission was pretty new for me. Though things with Fox were patched up, I didn't know what to say concerning Lombardi and the bad shape Peppy was in. I figured it was best to just say nothing and reassure Fox that I'd be there for him if he needed it. He was like family, just like my team back on Corneria was.

Andrea was a different story…

Taking on a mission that would probably end up in us either killing or being killed by Wolf O'Donnell, a mercenary as famous as Fox but for all the wrong reasons, was no easy matter when his sister would be coming with us. Not for a moment did I think that she would betray us; I knew raw emotion when I saw it. No, my concern was her use in a firefight. She wasn't as battle-hardened as Fox, and if the emotional side dropped the bomb right when her dear brother waltzed into the fray, she could jeopardize herself, or even all of us. I had to confront her on it.

Dawn the next morning – though "dawn" is sort of false considering Solar was glaring at the ship day and night – I found her in her room, calmly dressing with a distant look in her eye. She didn't look weary at all. Two missions in two days was cake for me, but no picnic even for seasoned soldiers. She glanced up at me and looked back down as if she knew what was coming.

"Andrea," I said. "I need to know if you're going to perform out there."

She wasn't fazed by my signature bluntness. Most people are. "I told you to stop asking me that."

"A team's strength is in each member. If you fall apart, the team falls apart."

She looked up at me with pursed lips and a gaze that looked like she was either about to cry or yell at someone. "I've been waiting for this for a long time. Show me Wolf's face, and I'll blow it off."

"And if you don't?"

"Then you can shoot me."

I hesitated. The response surprised me, but the sureness in her voice left no doubt of its authenticity. "This ain't like those merc bitches you've been with. We protect our own, not shoot them. I'm trusting in your judgment of whether you'll make it through. If you think so, then the team will work with it, one way or another."

A tear finally slid down her cheek. Stress, anxiety, relief, love for a system that finally didn't hate her, whatever the cause, it was only one tear. She wiped it away and bucked up a bit. She hugged me and I hugged her back. I knew she'd make it through.

* * *

_Midland Sea, Corneria  
0643 hours, local time_

It was a silent flight to Corneria. The three of us sat against the sides of the dropship, rifles loaded and laid across our black-clad laps, Torq silently maneuvering to avoid global defense sensors. Last thing we needed was the Cornerian military asking questions. Andrea and Fox both stared at the wall, the former no doubt pondering how to confront her brother and the latter probably anxiously awaiting his chance to knock off his old rival. Me, I knew my role on this mission was just to lead and protect. The worst thing to do was to go into a mission with volatile emotions, and since half of our team was doing just that and we couldn't afford the luxury to wait for them to calm down, Torq and I had to be vigilant.

There's only one thing more frightening than a hot battle zone: a totally silent battle zone. That's exactly what we found. The huge freighter bobbed in the choppy ocean under menacing storm clouds. Not a light was burning, not a soul stirring. I leaned on the pilot's seat and stared at the dead ship, contemplating. Torq looked up at me and asked, "What's the call?"

Either the ship was a remote station, anchored there until Wolf or whoever needed to use it, in which case it's perfectly plausible and even favorable that it's vacant…or it's a trap. Either way, we had to get down there to check it out. I nodded and said, "Put her down on the landing pad, but keep the engine going. Stay alert."

He nodded and we started down.

I turned to Fox and Andrea and waved for their attention. "The ship looks dead, but we can't be sure. We're going down there. Fox, stay on the deck near the dropship and keep watch. Andrea and I will recon the inside. Torq will keep the ship going. If I say to fall back, don't ask questions, just get your asses back to the ship. Alright?"

Fox looked disappointed at being given guard duty, but he nodded along with Andrea. I wanted to be with her at all times; I could count on Fox to keep his cool alone if things got ugly.

The dropship door slid open and we were greeted by a bone-chilling wind accompanied by freezing mist-rain. Quite a change in climates overnight. I hopped down first onto the slick deck, rifle shouldered, and scanned the area. Nothing. I motioned for Fox and Andrea to follow and had them by my side in a moment. I raised a finger to Fox and pointed to the ground; he got the picture, stay put and patrol around the dropship. I then pointed to the looming bridge of the ship and all the innards in between. Andrea nodded.

If the outside was dark, stormy, and cold, then the inside was just dark and cold. It reminded my why I didn't join the Navy; hell if you'd get me on a cramped, floating coffin. A ship in space was bad enough. The first deck was a maze of dim metal corridors. I pondered whether to use the flashlight on my rifle or nightvision and finally decided on the flashlight; never know when a blinding light would pop on. I flicked it on and we both followed the eerie cone of light through the halls.

I was quickly becoming itchy. Let alone the small light guiding us through the dripping, cold ship, every few seconds we'd hear the groan of the hull or clank of something outside being tossed in the wind. I wasn't superstitious or anything, but I'd seen my share of horror flicks growing up. If ghosts or shit like that existed, they'd be right at home in that damn ship.

We made it to the mess hall without any encounters, living or paranormal, and I swept the flashlight around. Three plates and three cups rested on one of the long tables. I flicked the surface of what looked to be coffee and touched it to my lips. Not hot, but not totally cold either…certainly not cold enough to be more than an hour old. Ghosts took back burner as my main concern turned to resident mercs. I motioned to Andrea to follow closely.

The bridge was my goal and I finally found a stairwell leading there. If there was any information about the Shadow or his operation, it would be stored in the data banks there. I wasn't too impressed with the bridge once we arrived. The command center was in disarray and the large windows that overlooked the outside decks of the freighter were grimy and barely transparent. The numerous computer consoles were rusted and looked barely operational.

"Gage, look at this."

Andrea was peeking through a door at the back of the command center. She pushed it open to reveal a small room draped in black curtains. A couple lights on tripods flanked it. I knew it immediately; it was the set that the Shadow was filmed in. We found the bastard, no doubt. Reassured, I went back into the command center and booted up the console next to the large data banks. It sputtered to life like an old man not wanting to be awakened. I brushed grime off the screen and just sort of stared at it for a minute before Andrea sighed and pushed me out of the way. Hey, I was trained for special forces, not hacking.

She typed rapidly for a few minutes while I kept watch at the door. It was taking too long for my tastes. My imagination was still bullshitting me and forcing me to keep watch in case the damn fire hose or something came to life. Finally, as I was about ready to put a laser into the fire hose for good measure, she spoke up.

"Ok, there's a backup of each video he released on here. Good news is that you were right. Remember the Black Scythe, Venom's own version of Dagger? They're definitely involved. One of them that escaped capture or death after the war is the Shadow. Here, there's a file here of every member, like the one you found awhile ago, only the names and profile pictures aren't blurred out. Bad news is that he filmed himself in darkness so we can't break that to see which one it is. But…oh! Look at this! The voice was apparently tampered with. That's not his own voice on the video. So if we rewind the work on this and start it over, we should hear his normal voice."

"It's a start. Won't do us much good. Would be nice to know what the bastard sounds like, but until we know which of the Scythe members he is, it won't do much good."

While she messed with the sound file, I clicked through the Scythe profiles as if browsing a dating service catalog. Most of them looked like pretty tough bastards; I only had a run-in with two of them, and it's not a fond memory. Their names didn't ring any bells and, eerily enough, sounded…normal, if that's the right word. Maybe I expected their names to be like Blade McBeatass or something, but it sounded as normal as Bob Johnson the paper boy.

The voice file started rewinding and as I heard it in ultra-fast backwards mode, I suddenly felt a pit in my stomach, the same kind I felt back when Falco's boots were just being uncovered in the lighting program. I suddenly didn't want to look at anymore Scythe pictures and the beep as the sound file finished and started playing at normal time, in the Shadow's normal voice, was like a sucker punch to my kidney. My fingers moved on their own force. I clicked onto the next Scythe picture just as the voice echoed in the Command Center and took my breath away. Andrea stared in shock. The picture I saw before me, the name beside it, the grizzled expression, the voice that I imagined saying anything but the horrible things it was saying in that video, was burned into my brain.

I wasted no time. I sprinted back through the corridors of the ship, the flashlight bobbing and guiding me. Tracking training pulled through and I found my way back to the heavy hull door. A burst of stormy, misty air embraced me as I slid out onto the deck and looked at Fox calmly standing by the dropship. Did he mean for us to find that? He couldn't have…he must not have thought we'd find it, or he would have opened fire by now.

I sprinted forward and Fox looked at me, first with confusion, then concern. The concern turned to fear as I raised my rifle right at his head.

"Fox, get down!"

He hit the deck and I opened up full auto on the dropship. Lasers bounced off the hull and finally cracked the canopy. Torq reeled back in surprise that turned to frustration. The sound of boosters overtook the storm and the dropship took off, but he didn't fly away. He turned back and fired the weak but powerful enough main gun. It chewed up the deck around me. I ran forward, pulled Fox to his feet, and we dove behind a huge shipping container as the lasers seared the air around us. I waited. There was no way in hell we could take a dropship. To my surprise, he turned and jetted off. Only after we were alone with the sound of the storm did I realize how bad that was. That meant something on board this ship would kill us, and Torq was sure of it.

"Fuck fuck fuck," I muttered through gritted teeth, punching the container. "This whole goddamn galaxy is fucking two-faced!"

But I knew that wasn't true. I didn't know Torq by accident. He made very subtle and very intentional moves to get near me. Keep friends close and enemies closer. It made sense. The destruction of the Guardians, supposedly his own mercenary team, the amazing fighting the day before, the money, how he was able to keep tabs on Fox. All this time, the bastard was right under Corneria's nose.

But fuck if I would let the Black Scythe beat Dagger.

"What the hell was that!" Fox shouted. "What the hell happened?"

I didn't answer yet. It didn't all click into place yet, but we had more immediate concerns. I turned back to the ghostly bridge with a new sense of fear. Andrea hadn't followed me; she hadn't joined us yet. There was someone in that ship. Torq had set us up. StarWolf was lying in wait, no doubt. Torq just expected them to kill us before we found out the bad stuff. If Andrea was in there, then I was going after her. We were playing on Wolf's turf now, but I have a very high winning average on enemy playing fields.

I motioned for Fox to keep quiet and follow me.

_-Chapter 11 coming soon-_


	11. Dead in the Water

Author's Note: An update! Again, my apologies for the long delay. My appreciation to those who emailed me about the book: I hope you find as much interest in it as you did Mercenary wars. And I hope this update was worth waiting for. It felt good to be writing again so you can be sure the next update will take much less time than this one. Great to be out of production and paperwork and back to writing. Enjoy! -Foxmerc 

CHAPTER 11  
Dead in the Water  
_Midland Sea  
0712 hours, local time  
_

I didn't need Gage to draw a picture for me; Arthur Torqinski was this Shadow, the man who put a ludicrous bounty on my head, turned half the galaxy against me, caused Falco to betray me and Peppy to be in critical condition, and altogether made my life a living hell for the past weeks. But Gage told me anyway as we walked to the heavy steel door leading into the ship's cabin. Arthur was Black Scythe who survived the war with Andross, knew a losing side when he saw one, and ingeniously maneuvered himself into an alias trusted by Corneria. I felt oddly violated, as if someone had planted a camera in my shower. I spoke with this guy, laughed with him, shook hands, even trusted him to fly the dropship to this God-forsaken ship. And the whole time, there had been an unimaginable coldness and deceit behind those eyes. In a way, I was relieved. Now I knew it was no one close, no one I had feared waking up staring down the barrel of a gun at. Secondly, my problem now had a face.

"He can't leave the planet," Gage said over the heavy rain, flattening his back against the cold metal by the door. "I damaged the canopy of the dropship. That could buy us some time to warn the _Solar Wind_. Get to the bridge and radio them. Tell them about Torqinski and tell them to send transport for us ASAP." He tapped his ear. "Keep radio silence but let me know if anything happens. He could have finished us, but he knew someone on this ship would. I'm betting StarWolf. Andrea could be in trouble; I'm going to look for her. We'll meet up here once I find her and once you call the cavalry." He stopped and tilted his head. "I know this is happening sort of fast. You good to go?"

I must have looked more out of it than I thought. I hefted up my rifle and nodded.

He socked me on the shoulder with his knuckles. "Get to it then. I'll see you soon."

He disappeared into the darkness of the ghost ship. I followed him, distantly glad to be out of the rain, and waited for a moment for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. The rocking motion of the angry ocean didn't help my stomach, but it was a slight concern next to the promise of an ambush waiting to happen. But as the corridor came into greater focus with each blink, I found myself more focused, the numb shock of Torqinski's betrayal shrugged off. I was even a bit excited at the prospect of running into StarWolf. I knew why. If StarWolf was here, then Wolf was here. And if Wolf was here, then Pigma was here. And if Pigma was here, then not Torqinski, the traitorous galaxy, nor God himself would stop me from ending his life here in the desolate freeze of the ocean. He managed to evade me twice in the war, each one an insult on top of my father's murder. But not this time. No greater fury than in revenge unfulfilled…

I followed the corridor that branched off from the one Gage traveled. It led up an echoing stairwell into another maze of corridors, my destination mapped with red arrows on the walls marked "Command Center." I finally came to the room Gage had apparently visited and thoroughly checked each dark corner before lowering my guard. No sign of StarWolf or Andrea. A sound file he had activated still looped, Arthur's benign voice eerily saying the words that haunted me in those tapes. I shut it off and took one glance at his electronic Scythe ID before turning away in disgust.

I felt a wave of relief upon seeing that the radio was powered up and working and even more relief when I found it was a model I was familiar with. I punched in the _Solar Wind's_ frequency, committed to memory for the mission of course; paranoia had its perks, and waited for a response. It felt great to hear a friendly voice again, even if it was a barely-adult enlistee who was probably stuck in the radio room to keep him from accidentally shooting someone in combat.

I patiently waited for him to finish his practiced answering spiel then said, "This is Fox McCloud transmitting from Corneria. I have an urgent message for Admiral Satcher. Arthur Torqinski of The Guardians is the Shadow, the man behind my bounty. He's loose on Corneria near my coordinates. Are you getting all this?"

"Um…I…uh…"

I sighed. "Just get that to him. He'll know what it means. Tell him—" I stopped short. The electric life in the machine had evaporated and the air stood still. Sure enough, there was no response from the kid. The line had been cut. By that time, I knew for a fact that there were no such things as coincidences. Someone was listening; someone knew I was at the radio.

I instinctively looked up through the bridge's panoramic window. I guess I was looking for some sign down on the stormy deck, but instead my eye caught a faint reflection in the glass itself. I was getting very used to the look of a gun being raised. I ducked and covered as the shot pounded into the radio in a shower of sparks. Three more shots tracked me as I rolled behind cover at a nearby console. My rifle was still propped against the radio, out of reach. I pulled out my pistol, flattened my back against the console, and waited.

"Come out, Fox. Don't drag this out."

My brow hardened. For a long time, on silent nights where the mind was left to wander, I had contemplated how I'd feel, what I'd do, if I ever heard that voice again. Half of me feared it and hoped I'd never hear it again while the other half ached in eagerness at confronting Pigma. Fortunately, my nerves had been steeled time and time again thanks to Torqinski, and the latter half rose to the occasion. I steadied my breathing. I had rehearsed so many times what I would say, but it was all forgotten then. I went with what felt natural.

"Pigma," I said as smoothly as possible. "Funny. This is the first time we've been alone, able to just talk, since…well, since you patted me on the back, told me not to worry, and left with my father on his last mission. I was just a kid. Then I hear you betray my father and Peppy and leave me orphaned. You have any idea how much that would fuck up a kid?" It was a rhetorical question so I continued. "I think I did alright for myself though. Hell, kicked your ass out of the sky twice. I'm almost glad you survived both times, though. I didn't want to just see you disappear in a ball of flame. I wanted you in front of me. I wanted to shove a knife in your gut, gouge out your eyes with a melon-baller, rip off your arm, and beat you to death with it. Hey, I may finally have my chance now."

I heard a shuffle. He was rattled and trying to move to a better position. I couldn't underestimate him, though. If I had evolved since our last meeting, he may have also. My suspicion was right; he had grown a bit ballsier. He loosed a couple shots and tried to flank me, but I was prepared. I shoulder-rolled out from cover and slammed him back against the wall. I raised my pistol to finally end it, but he recovered quicker than I expected and we found ourselves locked eye-to-eye, each pistol up and shoved into the other's face, both triggers half-pulled. I stared into my nightmare. It was Pigma alright, the expression halfway from fear to hatred. I felt fear in myself also. I had long feared Pigma after my father's death, and such an image was not easily released. But my anger quelled it.

"Why'd you do it," I half-whispered through clenched teeth. "I don't care about myself. I don't care about this goddamn Torqinski. I cared about my parents. Why did you do it?"

"The same reason Lombardi did."

"Bullshit. He's nothing like you."

"He sold you out. He knew the more profitable way. How is that not the same?"

"He regretted it. He took no pleasure in it."

"I did it because your father lied! He was no mercenary. You aren't either. You're like him, some idealistic pawn for hire. You do what Corneria wants, not what the money demands. That's why. I wouldn't let myself be turned into that."

"So you became Andross' pawn instead."

"He's dead, and I'm rolling in the cash. I'm no one's pawn. You…even with this bounty on you, where's Corneria to help?"

I never had an answer for that, but staring into the face of everything I knew to be evil, I had one then. "I'm a protector of Corneria. Let the politicians have their say. I can't force anyone into action. All I can do is what I know to be right. Like my father."

He grunted. "You've grown up from the kid I knew. Honestly, I never thought you'd make it. But too much like the old man for your own good. It'll be as satisfying wasting you as it was watching James die."

He moved quicker than I ever thought I'd see Pigma move. I got off a shot, but only after he batted my hand away and went in for the kill. The shot seared like hell across my cheek, but my reflexes saved me once again. I kicked him away and raised my pistol, but again my shot was thwarted, this time by the ship itself. A muffled explosion rocked it violently and the grating sound of twisted metal filled the air. By the time I managed to steady myself Pigma was gone, fleeing like his normal self down the stairs. But I'd have none of it. I sprinted after him.

"Gage," I said as I ran, my hand to my ear. "Gage, come in."

"Little busy," he responded in a manner too casual following an explosion.

"Satcher knows about Arthur, but I couldn't relay our position. Pigma's here. I'm going after him."

A few moments passed. Then a few more. I repeated his name a few times, thinking there might be a bad connection, then got a response. "Fox, the ship's sinking. Andrea's fine, but none of us will be if we don't get out of here. Get to the aft bay. We can take one of the transports."

"After I finish this."

"Now, Fox!"

I ripped off the headset and threw it down behind me. Not the smartest thing to do, but logic was on the back burner at the moment. I regained a bit of control when Pigma took a moment to shoot at me when I rounded a corner. Recklessness would not do. I wouldn't let my father down by walking into a hasty trap. The lasers pushed me back around the corner, but I then heard the blessed click of a trigger being pulled on a dead clip. Pigma dropped the gun and ran again. I gave chase, loosing a shot every few seconds, but always a cursed inch too late.

I glanced at the arrows on the walls as we passed and realized Pigma was heading for the docking bay. I feared that if Gage was there, they might get Pigma first. I ran harder, chest heaving. With death on his heels, the bastard was sprinting on pure survival instinct, and it was unfortunately the greatest motivator. Vengeance kept me going.

I knew something was wrong in the docking bay. A few dusty transport ships lined the vast bay's sides and the gaping maw of the ship's aft opened up to the cool, windy storm. But new wreckage decorated the far side. I only needed a moment to see that a transport ship had tried to take off and collided with some on the side. For a horrific moment I feared it was Gage, but then I saw him standing with Andrea in his usual pose: looking at an explosion he caused. They turned in surprise as our little marathon barreled into the bay. Gage raised his pistol and I reacted on guts.

"No!" I pushed his arm away and the shot went wide.

"What the hell's your problem!"

I paid no attention. Pigma knew where he was going. I raised my own pistol, but adrenaline worked against me. The excitement, the fear, all of it made me shake like a leaf in an updraft. I emptied the clip at Pigma, but none struck. The last one bounced off the hull of a transport as he fired it up. With the whine of the engines, my last chance to settle the score vanished.

No…not again. Not this time.

I dropped my gun, grabbed a grenade from Gage's vest, and with my last burst of energy, ran towards the ship. Pigma inched the transport out, turned, and lined up with the bay opening. Just as the engines flared, nearly deafening me, I leaped, grabbed the wing, and pulled myself up. The traitor looked up in shock and I made damn sure he saw my face before I continued. When I was certain that I would be the last thing going through his mind before death, I fell to my stomach, wound up, and pitched the grenade down into the left wing booster. With a newfound exhilaration, I jumped clear, ignoring the sharp pain in my legs as I hit the ground, and braced for the blast.

And oh, God, was it satisfying.

Metal flew by my face as the wing booster exploded, sending the engines into a sickly whine. The ship veered sharply left and slammed into another transport. Just as I thought I'd have to go over and finish the job, I was pushed onto my side by a brilliant explosion that left no doubt. I couldn't hear it, but that didn't matter. I saw it.

I became aware of Gage behind me and my hearing slowly came back to me. Andrea asked if I was alright, interrupted every few seconds by Gage praising how crazy I was. Finally I shook my head and said, "A minute. Just give me a minute."

They fell silent and seemed to understand. I was left to myself. Staring at the wreckage, I felt…better. Not reborn, not in the midst of a new sunrise like at the end of a smarmy movie. Just better. They say revenge is not a good feeling, but that's only if you don't understand revenge. I knew killing Pigma wouldn't bring my father back, just as killing Andross didn't bring my mother back. Bringing them back was never my goal. I knew killing Pigma wouldn't make the pain go away. But killing him accomplished the goal I set out to achieve. My father's murderer was dead. Justice was done. And for that, I felt better. The case felt closed.

I stood and turned to Gage and Andrea, every pain in my muscles temporarily forgotten. Andrea looked shaken but not injured. "Wolf?"

Gage patted me on the shoulder and headed towards one of the transports. "First, let's get off this heap. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

_0713 hours, local time  
_

I glanced over my shoulder as Fox took the corridor adjacent to the one I started down. I didn't want to leave him alone. The latest betrayal in the long line of traitors didn't seem to have an effect on him, probably because he didn't know Arthur too well, but shoving him off into possible combat wasn't the best way to follow it. That's how war goes, though. Not many options in the middle of a fight.

I focused on the task at hand. I could hear muffled voices from further inside the ship's bowels, one definitely a woman, and a woman who did not want to be where she was. Andrea must have tried to follow me outside, but they were lying in wait to grab her. It made sense in a weird way. Wolf didn't expect his sister to show up, so when she did, he'd want a chat with her. Remembering the stories of what Wolf did to her made me quicken my silent pace.

I had my memories too. I remembered our kiss before vaporizing the Vipers. I never thought twice about a relationship before. I never planned to find Ms. Right even before I was in Dagger, and after that it was certain. Spouses and the job don't mix. And now the sister of Wolf O'Donnell? I'm a soldier. I don't over-contemplate. I act on instinct, training. And right then, my gut was telling me to get my ass in gear because someone I loved was in trouble. Don't ask me why I felt that. Love never made sense to me and it didn't in that moment either.

Glancing at the painted arrows, I was becoming more certain that the noises were coming from the galley. Sure enough, I rounded the corner to the galley corridor and a shriek guided me in. Windows made up the wall on my left. I flattened my back, shuffled along the wall, and peeked through the dirty glass into the mess hall. Rows of grimy, disused tables and chairs littered the galley, as well as some more recent scum: StarWolf. Andrea sat at one of the chairs, shoulders slumped and head bowed. Wolf leaned on the table next to her, speaking too softly for me to hear. Another character stood over her as well, a lizard. I recognized him from the merc files. Leon. Leon…something. Didn't matter. I just needed to know he was the enemy, and that was enough for me.

I flinched as Wolf slapped his sister and grabbed her muzzle. I didn't need to hear the words to know they weren't kind. I sank to the ground and crawled under the window panes until I reached the doorway. I could hear the voices now and I risked a peek.

"We wouldn't be this way, Andy," Wolf said. "We could've had the money. All of us. But you…you went to McCloud? You ran to our family's enemy?"

"Your enemy," Andrea responded. Wolf retorted with another slap.

"Don't interrupt. You know I hate that. Where was I…right, McCloud. Torqinski doesn't even care about Fox. None of this was about Fox. It was about something bigger. I'm trying to save you, Andy. I want you back with me. But before I can even think of asking Torqinski to let you live, I need to know what that Dagger soldier you're running around with knows. There can be no loose ends."

I filed that little bit in the back of my memory for later assessment. Something bigger.

Andrea risked a glance up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I braced myself to see another slap, held my breath as Wolf's hand moved, but it never struck. Andrea caught the wrist in mid-air and shoved his arm back, her eyes regaining some fire. I grinned a bit. 'Atta girl.

"You still don't know what's good for you," Wolf muttered. He nodded to Leon. The lizard smiled and nodded back. "Andy, I don't believe you. But, call it family love, I don't want to extract information from you. So I'll let Leon here do it. When you're ready to be a good girl and tell me about Dagger-boy, he'll stop."

I let my breath out. The son of a bitch was going to watch as his own sister was tortured. It was always nice to have little reminders that I was on the good side in Lylat's wars. Andrea's face became more and more forlorn as Leon placed different sizes of knives and other unpleasant tools on the table, making damn sure his victim saw them. Lastly, he removed a pair of handcuffs from his bag of goodies and grabbed Andrea's arm. Time to move.

I broke the heavy silence of the galley. Three pairs of eyes looked to the door as I rushed in, but I only saw Leon's, and I loved the surprise. The quiet was shattered and the gloom lit up from a long rifle burst. A good half-dozen lasers pounded into Leon's chest and sent him sprawling on top of the greasy table behind him. I tracked my rifle towards Wolf, but the bastard hadn't let his guard completely down. He fired rapid shots from his pistol, apparently not caring if Andrea was in the way. I did. I dove, grabbed her, and pulled her down as the lasers tore up the air.

I raised myself to a kneel and fired at Wolf as he ran from the galley, but my awkward position and the strewn debris left my shots straying. Andrea was up before me, a low growl escaping her throat, but then she was right back down again as a bitch of an explosion rocked the boat. Not a good sign, but I'd unfortunately been expecting it. The ship had to be rigged if Arthur led us right to it. Wolf had moved to plan B…blow the hull, sink the ship, and kill anyone left behind. He'd be heading aft, to the bay.

Andrea hopped up again, but not before retrieving Leon's fallen pistol. I recognized the model; packed a hell of a punch, but required a steady hand. Hoped she could handle it. Halfway through the doorway, a solid thunk by my ear stunned me and I looked to the side to see a knife reverberating in the doorframe. I spun around to see Leon winding up another throw, one of his deadly knives in his hand. I raised the only thing handy to protect myself: my rifle. The knife cut through the barrel like cheap paper, the tip no more than an inch from my eye. I dropped the useless rifle. Leon stood there, his shirt torn and small pieces of ragged body armor sticking out. The shots weren't fatal, but they did some damage to his chest. A small stream of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He had a knife in each hand. My own hand hovered over my pistol holster.

"Go," I uttered to Andrea. "Get after Wolf."

She didn't need further urging. I focused on my high-noon standoff. Leon glared at me with the cold concentration of a true killer. I had no doubt he could handle those knives better than most men handle a gun. We both stared, our breathing even starting to become synchronized. And, like a telemarketer at dinnertime, it was then that Fox decided to call.

"Gage. Gage, come in."

"Little busy," I responded curtly, my eyes never leaving Leon.

"Satcher knows about Arthur, but I couldn't relay our position. Pigma's here. I'm going after him."

Leon made his move, probably hoping I was distracted. He must not have known me too well. I dropped my shoulder forward and the knife thunked into the wall behind me. I came up shooting, but he charged and pounced, knocking my pistol away. I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall, but he was a tough bastard. He broke my hold and pulled the exact same move, pinning me against the wall. He brought the knife up and I managed to block the thrust at my chest, but his strength was gaining and the knife inched towards me. With a last burst of energy I pushed him away. He regained himself and lunged at me, but I was ready and that look of shock crossed his face once again. I yanked his thrown knife from the wall and shoved it into his neck as he charged. His knife clattered to the ground and he went down sputtering. I stayed to make sure he was good and dead. Finally, I recovered Black Beauty and hauled ass to the aft bay.

I became aware of Fox's voice in my ear and remembered I sort of left him on hold. I responded. "Fox, the ship's sinking. Andrea's fine, but none of us will be if we don't get out of here. Get to the aft bay. We can take one of the transports."

"After I finish this."

"Now, Fox!"

No answer. He was going to have Pigma one way or another. I couldn't blame him. I focused on Andrea.

When I ran into the docking bay, my heart skipped a beat. Wolf had gotten to a transport and was lining it up to take off, but what concerned me was where Andrea stood…dead in the middle of the ship's path. Wolf revved up the engines, fully intending to wipe his sister out in take-off. But Andrea stood like a finalist in a skeet-shooting match, her face stoic, her eyes boring into Wolf. She raised Leon's pistol, the hand-cannon, and with hardly a moment's hesitation, fired the deafening shot. The canopy glass shattered and I didn't even need to see Wolf's head to know it splattered. With the pilot resting in many many pieces, the sheep veered sharply to the side and collided with the bay wall. Thankfully, no explosion ensued. I almost wished one did, just to burn away the last traces of Wolf O'Donnell.

Andrea lowered the gun and looked at me. After a tense moment, she sighed, her eyes cleared, and she walked over to me. I'd never been more proud of her.

We waited for Fox in silence, hoping he hadn't gone and gotten himself killed. What was taking him so long…

_-Chapter 12 coming soon-_


	12. Complications

Author's Note: As always, thank you all for the very generous reviews. I'm very glad that this story is enjoyable that widely. This chapter is only from the Fox side and sort of an interlude to set up the conclusion of the story. I didn't want to go further and into the Gage side because the next segment is large and a chapter in itself. Because it's been so long since this story started, some readers may have to take a glance back at the beginning when you reach the end. Well, you'll see, I won't ruin it. And to BlackSwordsman, I apologize for not answering your question in the last update, so here it is now: The time setting of this story follows the same rules as my others; I base everything on the StarFox 64 foundation. So Great Fox, snowy Fortuna, StarWolf, all that. That was when I started writing. I was not exactly a fan of SF Adventures and Assault went into territory I also didn't want to implement. All my stories are seperate and in "alternate" universes. This is actually the second time I've killed StarWolf and the second time I've used Gage. What can I say, I love the character. So long story short, this is based solely on the 64 universe. I hope this answers the question. Once again, thanks to everyone and enjoy! -Foxmerc

CHAPTER 12  
Complications  
_CNS Solar Wind, Solar orbit  
1243 hours_

"I got him."

They say that sometimes a traumatically unconscious patient can still hear things. I sure hope this was one of those times. For years I wanted nothing more than to tell Peppy those words, to let him know that the man who killed my father, his comrade, was dead. It felt good saying it, like a release, but it did nothing to allay my worry that Peppy may never wake up again. Slippy had been faithfully by his side, not looking like a million bucks himself, but at least among the living. He glanced up at me as I said the words, as if he had waited as long as I had to hear that, just so he could see my face. I must have looked just like I felt – exhausted, satisfied – because he gave me a little grin and lowered his eyes to Peppy again.

After a few moments listening to Peppy's steady heartbeat reflected on the monitor beside me, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Gage. It looked like he had finally gotten some sleep after giving Admiral Satcher a full brief and heading a bug and tracker scan of the entire Solar Wind. Torqinski had left nothing behind; just another piece in the growing puzzle. I stood, nodded goodbye to Slippy, and followed him out into the ship's corridors.

"It doesn't make sense," I said, starting a ponderous pace. "All the fanfare, all the money. He hijacked the entire galaxy's network feed to broadcast my bounty, hired countless mercenaries, and that's all after stealing billions worth of money and gold, some of it from the top secret reserve Andross left behind…all when he could have stepped right up to me and shot me in the head before I knew what hit me." I shook my head. "It was never about me."

"You brought down Andross," Gage replied, "therefore ending Black Scythe's operations. It makes sense he would want you dead. But Black Scythe soldiers are pros…they wouldn't go this far for petty revenge. You were the icing on the cake. We have to find out what the cake is. Arthur knows we know, so he'll probably step up whatever timetable he has."

I nodded. It was like a progressive nightmare. Every time one mystery was solved, another one, bigger and scarier than the last, was there to take its place. I sighed through my nose and rubbed my sore eyes. "What do we do?"

"Well, if we can prove there's some bigger threat, the military will step in. Deep salvage teams are recovering what they can from the sunken ship now, so we just have to wait. Until then, we got a…little surprise."

"Fuck, what now? Aliens come to claim the bounty?"

"A prisoner. Well, a voluntary prisoner. Seems you didn't wipe out all of the Vipers. She approached the Solar Wind and surrendered this morning, refused to talk to anyone but you. Satcher cleared us for a little chat in an hour."

"A Viper…does Andrea know?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't even want to know her name. Still in her room. Blowing her brother's face off took a bit out of her."

I chuckled. "Hard to believe StarWolf's finally gone. If any good came of this mess, it's that. Well, that and Andrea." I looked sideways at him.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You haven't taken your eyes off her since you nearly knocked her out on the Great Fox."

"What? I'm not—"

I pushed him against the metal wall. "Oh please, you're about as subtle as a nuclear bomb."

"Yeah, whatever. Just be in the cell block in an hour and don't let Andrea hear you babbling about this lovey shit or I'll mail your ass to Arthur."

I rolled my eyes as he lightly punched me in the shoulder and walked away; of course, "lightly" to Gage meant I walked the rest of the way to the galley rubbing my shoulder. An hour; not enough time to really rest, but enough time to eat what I could while contemplating what this new prisoner meant. Half of me wished I could just have one damn day off while the other half didn't want to sleep until this war was over. Whatever information this Viper had would probably determine which half would get its wish.

The hour crawled on the wall clock. Before leaving the galley, I practiced a new but very ingrained tradition: I prepared for the exact opposite. The prisoner wanted to talk, so I prepared for action. Paranoia was no longer a nagging voice in my brain, but an angel on my shoulder. I loaded up my handgun and clicked the safety off before heading to meet Gage.

* * *

_1403 hours_

Marisa LaMonte, a young black feline, ran her finger back and forth across the metal table before her, her tail and left foot moving in nervous rhythms. Though reflecting her edginess, there was something haunting about her face. I knew it before Gage even gestured through the one-way window and said it.

"She's the daughter of Commander LaMonte of the Vipers. That's right, the same Commander LaMonte you taunted while waiting for our missiles to blow her and her Viper sisterhood out of the sky."

Life was turning into a violent sitcom. "What the hell does she want? If I killed her mother, I'll bet she's not here to invite me to the funeral."

Gage shrugged. "All she's said so far was her name and that she'll only talk to you."

I nodded and said the first, most obvious thing that came to mind. "She's going to try to kill me."

"Yeah, probably," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm going in there with you if you go. What do you want to do?"

There was no question that I was going in there, but I allowed myself a little stall time. She couldn't have any weapons; the guards would have searched her extensively. If she attempted to kill me, she'd have to rely on her own two hands. It might seem laughable to be concerned about that, but after seeing Gage do things with his martial arts abilities that would make one question the laws of physics, I pondered it thoroughly. Finally, I said, "It's a date. Tell the guards to restrain her, though. If he says it's unnecessary paranoia, tell him to glance at the news archives from the last week, then argue."

But the guard must have kept up on current events, because he gave us no shit and handcuffed Marisa's wrists behind her chair with not a word. She didn't look too happy about it. I didn't care.

I sat down across from her while Gage stood behind me looking like a bouncer; arms folded, eyes stern. She stared at me, I stared back, and it occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever met a family member of someone I killed. It didn't make me sorry in the least. If Madam LaMonte didn't want her ass blown away, she shouldn't have tried to kill me, simple as that.

"You wanna lay out why you're here, or should we get back to our business and let you rot in the cell?" Gage always was the master of tact.

Marisa took her time looking up at Gage, then lowering her eyes again to me. "Who is this man?"

"A trusted friend."

"I said I wished to speak only to you."

"He stays." The matter was closed.

Marisa took a deep breath and let it out slowly as her head bowed. She looked mellow, resigned, as if she knew the universe had abandoned her and she alone was set to carry her burden. I identified. "I suppose it doesn't matter who I tell it to. I just wanted to see you, Mr. McCloud. I've never seen you in person, just the news and those damn stupid shows about the 'great hero' and all that."

It was like listening to someone talk about you behind your back. I didn't know quite what to say. "Well, you saw me. What do you think?"

She raised her head and squinted. "You look more…real. I see your experience in your face. You're just a man, just a normal person."

I nodded. "I am."

She tried to move her arm, but the handcuffs stopped her. An annoyed look crossed her face. She leaned forward and said, "May I request to have these removed? Metal clamping into my flesh breaks my concentration. If you think I'm here for revenge because of my mother's death, that's not the case. I'm sure your burly friend is enough security."

"I'd feel safer if I knew what you were here for."

She leaned back, shifting her hands for a more comfortable position. "Very well. I'm here to save the galaxy."

Gage scoffed behind me and I couldn't help but crack a grin. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, but I have a hard time believing the daughter of the leader of one of the most vicious mercenary groups to ever plague this galaxy wants to now save it."

"Ironic, isn't it? Humorous in a way. Sometimes life throws situations at us that are so mind-boggling, we either have to laugh at it or go crazy trying to make sense of it. I'm sure you can appreciate that, Mr. McCloud. But I assure you, there's nothing remotely funny about what I know."

My face fell back into a neutral look and I searched her cold, staring eyes. They were unreadable. Perhaps the only thing that kept me there to listen was the memory of what Gage told me Wolf said, that I was a diversion for something bigger. After a moment, I gestured to the security camera. The guard opened the door.

"You can remove the restraints."

"You sure, sir?"

I nodded.

He clicked them off and left us alone once again. Marisa leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rubbed her wrists. "Thank you."

I nodded back. "Please, continue."

"Let me say first that I don't hold a grudge against you. If a person willingly becomes a threat to someone else, that someone else can hardly be blamed for fighting back. I was…not too fond of my mother." Her gaze once again fell to the table, distant and full of memory. "My life has been one unsolvable conflict after another. I hated my mother's vision for the Vipers, but I could not leave. I did not want to kill and live a life of thievery, but I had to for survival, for acceptance. I did not want to endanger my friends, but I had to. We all had to."

"I was under the assumption that the Vipers were destroyed," I said. "Records show only the ships I destroyed and just enough personnel to man them."

Marisa shook her head. "I led a group of thirty women. We were part of the Vipers, but at the same time very different. My mother knew I didn't like the work, but she wanted her daughter in the 'family business.' We guarded supplies, escorted officers, and pulled the occasional piracy. My division was nicknamed the Little Yellows. All the Vipers who showed cowardice, a weak stomach in murder, or who even hesitated upon being ordered to torture a victim, were put in my division. The rest of the Vipers laughed at us. But look where their lives of cruelty led them."

"Where are they?" Gage asked. "What does this have to do with the galaxy's safety?"

"Patience, please. When word reached us that my mother and the rest of the Vipers were dead, I didn't know what to do. We weren't weak, and I hope you understand that. We could fight, all of us. We had courage. We had spirit. But I suppose, maybe, we were like you: mercenaries who knew that fighting for money was only tolerable when done for a good cause. But most of us knew we were stuck under my mother's boot. We took her death as an opportunity to renew the Vipers, to put the group on the right course. But our first test in virtue was too difficult.

"The Little Yellows were left out of this whole business of catching you, Mr. McCloud. We weren't trusted. But now, I felt I needed to know about it. As the new commander of the Vipers, I received all the information regarding it. I discovered that close to a dozen mercenary groups had allied and shared one large base on Macbeth as the center of operations for this endeavor. It's quite a sight, I tell you. Never had I seen so many mercenaries together for one cause. It was truly frightening."

"You've seen this base?" I asked, very interested. "Does the Shadow stay there?"

"I've seen it. And no, he doesn't. Nobody's seen him. Anyway, me and my division were summoned to the base. We went, more intent on discovery than actually joining the hunt for you. And it was during a meeting my second night there that I became suspicious of this threat I speak of. They knew I would oppose it. They were ready for me."

Almost an entire minute passed before she glanced up at me and hesitantly continued. "I'm sorry…the memory is very recent. The fate of my division haunts me like nothing I've ever felt. Right now, half of them are dead and the other half will be very soon, and their lives now are not pleasant. This Shadow has a plan to succeed where Andross failed. Some say he was a member of the elite Black Scythe. He plans to conquer the galaxy with these mercenaries as his extremely well-paid army. And to do this, he will kill millions in the blink of an eye. All this is speculation, but I am very sure of my hunch. I was too weak to further investigate by myself, so I've come to you, to warn you and hope you will stop this." She looked up at Gage. "And you, sir. If you are who my mother's scouts said you are, then surely you would remember the secret towers?"

I looked up at Gage. His face remained stone, but I knew him well enough to know that what Marisa said had pierced him. I said to Marisa, "You don't know what the plan is?"

"No. But investigate one of the towers, and you may find your answer. I pray I'm wrong, but that prayer has as much chance of coming true as any others I've given over the years."

"If I may: what happened to your division?"

She took a deep breath, as if she had prepared for the question but was hoping it wouldn't be asked. "When I told them of the Shadow's intentions, we all agreed to try and stop it. A small squad tried to sabotage the base, but they were caught, shot on sight. We made a stand at our quarters, but we never had a chance. I was separated from the division with one of my lieutenants, a good friend. We escaped, but my soldiers, my sisters, were overwhelmed. The survivors were taken prisoner. They've probably joined the other prisoners being held there, slave labor to construct Macbeth's part of the Shadow's plan. My lieutenant…she died in my arms only minutes after escaping to orbit." She looked at me, as clear as anyone's ever looked at me despite the welling of tears, and said in a strained voice. "Find it. And stop it."

"We will," I answered immediately. It hurt to look at her face. One mercenary to another, the team was the most important thing. Falco's betrayal hurt, but I don't know if I would have been able to keep going if I lost them all. "Thank you. I'll do what I can to help you out once all this is over."

She nodded. "Thank you to you as well."

It certainly wasn't the meeting I'd expected in both a good and bad way. The good part was that she didn't kill me. The bad part was that she gave us another big problem. Gage stared into space from a large corridor window and I waited for him to speak. Whatever Marisa meant by the towers, only he knew. After a minute, he pulled a pen from his pocket and stopped a passing private with a clipboard for a piece of paper. He scribbled something down, folded it half a dozen times, and handed it to me.

"I need you take this to the radio room," he said. "Tell the guy working it to send it exactly as it says. It's an encoded message to my CO."

I took the note. "What is it? What were those towers she was talking about?"

Gage sighed, looked around, and pulled me close as if we were a two-man football huddle. "Remember when all this shit started and I let you stay at the apartment in Corneria? And I came by and told you the story of the first Dagger?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how I told you they interrupted Andross' checkmate? You know, the plan to use receptor towers disguised as weather stations to send a huge EMP that would knock out every defense from Macbeth to Corneria?"

"Yeah." My eyes widened as I caught on. "Oh, shit. You think that's what Torqinski wants to do, finish what Andross never could?"

"It would take a ridiculous amount of money, work, coordination, ingenuity…but the towers still stand, though under Cornerian control. It could happen. Now look, don't get excited. It's just her hunch. We'll check one of the towers, check the coordinates for this merc base she's talking about, then we'll see. Just get that note to the radioman."

I nodded and turned, but stopped when he tapped me on the shoulder.

"By the way, it's a federal offense to read that message yourself."

I scoffed at his dry smile and continued away. "I can't read your scratch anyway."

_-Chapter 13 coming soon-_  



	13. A Cold Day In Hell

Author's Note: Back from a lengthy vacation away from home with a new chapter and some good ole Gage-style action. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy! -Foxmerc

  
CHAPTER 13  
A Cold Day In Hell  
_West Relay, Fortuna  
0556 hours_

"Ok, let's go over this one more time."

I waved Andrea over to the front of the dropship and tapped Fox on the shoulder to get his attention. He gave what he could; piloting through a blizzard in the dark looked difficult enough and I was more than happy to let him concentrate on it. I pulled a pistol from the wall mount and busied myself examining and loading it as I talked.

"We'll be breaking into a Cornerian Military relay station to recon their situation. That means they're friendlies; zero body count unless they turn out dirty. We'll be arriving just before dawn and I want to be in and out within an hour. Andrea will act first. Just so we make absolutely sure we're on the same page, tell us your role." I nodded to her.

"I play the stranded pilot with this ID." She flicked the fake Cornerian Air Force ID pinned to a borrowed uniform from the _Solar Wind_. I noticed her foot tapping a bit with anxiety. "I approach the gate guards and get their attention. Gage slips in while they're focused on me. If they follow normal protocol, they'll escort me to a free barracks room to wait for a transport. Once Gage is done with the mission, I go to the landing pad and meet him and the dropship."

"Good. Fox?"

"I circle around safely up here," he said bitterly, "because Gage doesn't trust my stealth abilities."

I sighed. "Fox, for the last time, you have no idea the kind of training I—"

"Yeah, yeah. I drop you off, wait for Gage's word, and do a quick pick-up at the landing pad under the ID of Andrea's military transport."

"Right. And I get in thanks to Andrea's distraction and make my way to the server room. I hack into their files and see what kind of traffic's been going in and out. If Torqinski was really planning to reactive the towers and start a war with one big strike, this relay station will have something. With any luck, we may find information on this mercenary base LaMonte told us about."

"We better," Fox said. There was a hint of fierceness in his voice. He wanted to take out the mercs that had made his life a living hell and I couldn't blame him. I made sure to give extra effort to finding something on the base for him.

"Then I give the signal and we meet on the landing pad and go home," I concluded. "Any questions?"

Andrea gestured to my chest. "Won't you be cold in that?"

I looked down at my black "shadow" suit and patted the equipment harness. "Nah, this is a Dagger exclusive. The suit's made of a polymer that reflects body heat given the environment. I could wear it in a snowstorm like this or in the middle of a desert and I'd feel the same. Frictionless rub-off too for sneaky situations like this; boots and gloves the same way."

"What happened to Black Beauty?" she asked with a mocking grin, eyeing my pistol.

"Don't start that; bad enough Fox knows." I held up the gun. "NS-7 Phantom, black-ops favorite. Bullet ammunition, not laser. Built-in silencer. No light, no sound, no fuss. Optional laser sight attachment." For wusses. Mine obviously didn't have it.

I holstered that and lastly removed a combat knife from an equipment drawer.

"I don't think that needs an explanation," Andrea said.

I gave one anyway. I tapped the sharp tip with my finger and said, "Stick this in the other guy," and sheathed it at my waist.

I leaned over Fox's seat and peered out the canopy into the blizzard. I wouldn't have been able to see a mountain even if it had already crushed half the nose. Fox was flying purely on radar, read-outs, and instinct and he seemed just fine doing so. He glanced up at me and said, "You know, I don't think this is such a good idea. You don't strike me as a master of subtlety."

"There's a lot you don't know about me. Believe it or not, combat is a secondary methodology in Dagger. Entering and leaving a hot zone like a ghost is first."

"Yeah? How come I never heard about any of your stealth missions?"

"Believe it or not, Fox, top secrecy and confidentiality aren't just for movies."

"Well, invincible heroes are so be careful in there."

"Andrea's about to lie to an entire military base, I'm about to sneak through it, and you're piloting through a wall of falling snow." I grinned. "We don't know the meaning of the word careful anymore."

He smiled back and held up his fist. I tapped it with mine and sat back down.

West Relay Station stood before me, a tall, wide structure that mushroomed at the top to allow multiple receiver rooms at every possible angle. It was easier to see it on the ground rather than in the air with the blizzard whipping around. Its lights and lit windows gave off a choked glow in the pre-dawn snow, hauntingly beautiful in its own way. Less beautiful was the way my face felt frozen in place. I rubbed feeling back into my nose and muzzle and crouched in the snow. Where the hell was Andrea…

I put my hand to my ear and cupped my mic from the snow. "Fox, do you see Andrea?"

"She's making her way over now. Radar cloak is holding so I should be able to keep watch as long as this snow keeps up."

"Ok. Hey, do you recognize these coordinates?"

"No…should I?"

"You don't? This is where you started becoming a hero, man."

"Huh?"

I rolled my eyes and winced. Even my eyes felt frozen. The suit worked like a charm but black face paint wasn't exactly a good insulator. "This is where you stopped StarWolf's advance during the war. You shot them down and prevented them from leveling this station. Couldn't have done better myself."

"No shit…wow. Hard to recognize it in this blizzard. Good thing it wasn't snowing that day. Think that's a good omen?"

"It better be." I squinted at the front gate and the two soldiers on guard duty. They exchanged glances and walked forward. Game time. "Alright, Andrea's here. Radio silence."

"Good luck."

I inched my way along the fence until I was closer to the main gate. Sure enough, Andrea showed up and put on an acting show even better than the one in the bar on MacBeth. I took in my surroundings; two guards, lots of snow, and a swiveling security camera on the guard shed. I noticed its back attachment; it was infrared for detection in heavy snow. I looked at Andrea; she was playing it all right, looking as frazzled and rattled as a downed pilot should. She showed the ID and I held my breath. It took longer than I would have liked, but they cleared her. I looked up at the camera. It was starting to swivel towards me. Shit.

The gate slid open and one of them escorted Andrea through. I cursed; I wouldn't be able to get through out of camera line of sight. But once again, the girl impressed me. She noticed it too and purposely tripped in the snow. The extra few seconds were all I needed to wait for the camera to swing away and hop through. It was a bit too close for my taste; I could practically smell the guard's shampoo.

I was on my own now. I made my way to the station, not worrying about footprints. The snow would cover them up in less than sixty seconds. My goal was the wash of light on the north side of the building; the ground loading docks. A ground transport was parked there and light meant an open door. An open door meant a way in.

I flattened my back against the cold metal wall and peered around the corner. Boxes were stacked around the concrete landing and I could just make out two male voices.

"A half hour. You hear me?"

"But there's like twenty goddamn boxes in there! Send another man!"

"We're stretched tight as it is. Just do it and quit complaining. A half hour, I mean it." A door slammed from inside.

"Ass," the disgruntled worker muttered.

I was feeling charitable so I decided to give the soldier the break he obviously wanted. I unsheathed my knife and waited for him to come out of the transport hefting another box. I tiptoed behind him, waited for him to put it down, and grabbed him in a swift chokehold with my knife pressed firmly against his throat. He coughed, gurgled, and pulled at my arm, but the cold blade helped calm him down.

"That's better," I said into his ear. "I hear pain is augmented in the cold. Want to test the theory?"

I felt him swallow against my forearm. He shook his head.

"Then I suggest you tell me something useful. What's new around here? Everything been quiet?"

I loosened my hold a bit so he could choke out his words. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"I'll ask the questions. Has anything worth mentioning happened here in the past couple months?"

"No."

"How can I access the server rooms?"

He hesitated and I had to tighten the hold to remind him I wasn't asking rhetorical questions. "The executive officer's computer! One floor up."

"Thanks. Dream of a warm place." I tugged violently on my choke arm and pushed on the back of his head. He was out like a light. I carried him into the docking bay so he wouldn't freeze and tucked him away amongst some boxes. I had a good couple hours until a full-fledged KO wore off.

Unfortunately, the base believed in good lighting. However, the one soldier was right; staff was sparse. I put on my game face; total focus. I moved soundlessly through the halls, my eyes immediately catching and holding in memory the locations of supply closets, wide vents, restrooms, and any other possible way for me to make a quick hide. I found a stairwell and made it to the second floor without incident.

A long hallway lay between me and my goal; a long, well-let hallway. I didn't like it, but I had no other route. I started down it and my worst fear came true; footsteps from around the far corner. I halted, looked around, and hurried into the female restroom in the middle of the corridor. First rule of hiding in bathrooms: there are fewer female soldiers so it's always the better bet.

I hid in one of the stalls, closed the door, and hopped up into a crouch on the toilet seat. Fox's luck was rubbing off on me. Not only did the approaching soldier have to answer the call of nature, but she was female as well. She chose the stall next to me and took her sweet time, humming a random tune the whole time. She then washed her hands and stood in front of the mirror for a good three minutes, presumably grooming herself up. Women. I rolled my eyes and mouthed a curse. As if that wasn't enough, another soldier waltzed in. I held my breath.

"Heya," the second one said. She sounded cute. I kept focused. "Where've you been all day?"

"I had to pull guard duty in the cell blocks. It's bad down there. It's just not right."

"I haven't been there yet. Trying to keep out of it." She hesitated. "I heard Tamran ordered one killed."

No answer. A nod, maybe. I furrowed my brow. This was interesting.

"It's all starting to scare me," Number 2 continued. "They never said anything about killing anyone."

"It's too late now. Just try not to think about it."

All the prayer in the world didn't stop the second woman. She chose my stall. The door started to open and I reacted. I kicked it back, hard, and sent her stumbling into a daze. In one quick move, I pulled out my pistol, hopped out of the stall, and slammed the butt of the gun into the bewildered first woman's throat. Not enough to kill, but enough to keep her busy breathing for a bit. I grabbed the second soldier into a choke hold and aimed the pistol at the first. She didn't notice at first; she was on her knees breathing heavily. I waited for her to come around and when she was comfortable breathing again she stared in horror over the gun at me. The soldier in my choke hold struggled and kicked but wasn't going anywhere.

"Both of you keep quiet or the janitor's going to have a lot to clean up in here." The woman in my arms settled down but the first soldier started quivering.

"Oh Go, oh God, oh god," stammered. She held her hands out. For the first time, I noticed she was a wolf who looked a bit like Andrea. Maybe that softened me a bit towards her. "Please don't kill us. Please."

"Give me a reason to let you live and I'll think about it."

"We were just hired for security! We're not part of this!"

"Part of what?"

She blinked at me and didn't answer.

"Part of what, dammit!" The soldier in my hold yelped as I tightened the hold. "Are you a Cornerian soldier?"

"No," she replied in a near whisper.

"What's going on here? If you don't tell the full truth, I'll make both your deaths the highlight of my day."

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "We were part of a private security company. Bodyguards. A guy named Gene Tamran hired us to be on this station's guard staff. They say he was Black Scythe. He has his own squads. We didn't know he had taken this place over from the Cornerian Army."

"Are they the ones in the cell block? The former staff?"

She nodded. "They're packed in there like cattle, about twenty of them in four cells. It's terrible. Tamran uses them to answer radio messages and send out status reports when he needs it so it looks like the base is still functioning."

I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes. God help us all. Torqinski was planning a new war and millions of deaths to start it off. He had a reason to hate Fox but it was all about distracting the military, getting Fox out of the picture, and building up his own army in the process. Hope wasn't lost yet. There was still time to stop it and if he could get word to General Pepper, the army could respond and take out the other towers across the galaxy.

Time to move. I choked the woman in my arms to sleep and laid her down quietly. The wolf's eyes widened and I said, "She's not dead. If you want my advice, find another line of work. At the very least, leave this job. Next time, I'm coming in shooting. Turn around and face the wall."

She hesitated but stood and faced the wall. I pistol-whipped her hard and caught her as she fell. I laid her down next to her friend. After a few moments of thought and a string of curses, I pressed my radio on.

"Fox, Andrea, respond."

"I read you."

"Me too. Ready for pick-up?"

"No." I looked at myself in the mirror. Past the black-smeared red fur I saw my own eyes shadowed with fur. At least they hadn't taken Andrea to the prison yet, or worse; they were still trying to keep their cover. "I'm lifting the no-kill policy. This place is dirty. The Cornerian soldiers are actually mercs. The real soldiers are being held in the cell block. And to top it off, one of Torqinski's old Black Scythe buddies is running the place. Andrea, are you safe?"

"Yeah. They said I could wait in the barracks area and that's where I stayed."

"Make your way to the landing pad. Fox, pick us up. I'm going to hack into the executive officer's computer and upload every file they have to the _Solar Wind's _database. Then I'm getting the prisoners. The dropship can hold us all. Meet at the pad in ten minutes. Got that?"

"Got it."

"One more thing. Fox?"

"Yeah?"

"Call in an air strike from the _Solar Wind_."

"What?"

"We can't risk letting this tower stand. If we take it out, that's one more chunk of the galaxy that's out of Torqinski's reach. Do it."

He sighed. "Alright. A strike from that distance won't take more than a half hour. Get moving."

I cut the radio and exchanged the pistol for the knife in my right hand. I bid farewell to the ladies and left the restroom.

It was a clear path down to the executive officer's office. I peeked in the open door and jerked my head back out. A middle-aged lizard in a stolen Cornerian officer's uniform sat facing the door, typing away at his computer. There was no stealthy way to get around him. I only hoped I wouldn't give him a heart attack before I got information out of him.

With a deep breath, I charged into the room, planted my hand on his desk, and vaulted over it, kicking him back. He fell back against the wall with a hoarse grunt and struggled to pull his pistol from his belt. I kicked his hand away, lifted him by his throat, and slammed him against the wall one more time for good measure. He pulled at my arm and stared into my eyes with anger, not fear. This might be a tough nut to crack.

"Who are you?" I growled into his face.

To my surprise, he smiled. The lackeys up until now had made me soft. I calmly pointed at my hand and shrugged. I loosed my hold and he took a deep breath.

"It's hard to speak without the larynx, boy," he said, straightening his overcoat. "My name is Colonel Gene Tamran of the Black Scythe."

"You? You could be my grandfather."

"Not all war takes place in battle. I'm in charge of the Black Scythe's intelligence. Both keeping, presenting it, and…extracting it."

"Which in plain talk means you like torturing people."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I'm just good at it." He gave me another eerie smile. "And you, you are Captain Gage Birse of the great Dagger squad."

I nodded. "You know your intel."

"How can I help you this morning, Captain Birse?" he asked as if taking my fast food order.

"I want every file on that computer. If I get it, there's no need to get rough."

"Well please, be my guest. My password has already been put in and the files are right there."

I cocked an eye.

"You're too late to stop anything, Captain Birse. Your friends on the _Solar Wind _might as well have a full stack of reading before it happens."

I righted his chair and pushed him down into it. I put my knife to his throat and, with my free hand, worked the computer. Within a minute, everything on the computer was on its way to the _Solar Wind_'s technician. I looked over and saw that Tamran was smiling again. "Something funny, asshole?"

He folded his hands on his lap and twiddled his thumbs. "Oh, no, I'm just happy."

"You're happy I'm about to shove this through your skull?"

"No, I'm just happy I finally found a challenge. The grunts I've had to deal with during this long operation always folded so fast. By my own honor, I stop torture as soon as the information we seek is given and the prisoner is not killed."

"How touching."

"Problem is, I'm so good at it, most prisoners give in within the first minutes. But a Dagger soldier…there's a different story. You have so much information Colonel Torqinski would love and Cornerian Special Forces resistance training is legendary. You would give me such a good challenge."

I chuckled. "Hate to say it, pops, but I don't think you have the upper hand right now."

"No, no I don't. But I know something you don't know."

"And what's that?"

"I know that when this base was built, this office used to belong to a general. It was then made into an executive officer's work station. But they kept one very important thing. Every general's quarters is equipped with—"

"A silent alarm," I breathed. My chest tightened. I turned to the door and, sure enough, there was a small blinking red light above the frame. "Oh sh—"

I hard force struck my from behind and I dropped my gun and knife. Dazed, I stumbled back and spun to see Tamran standing, brushing off his suit and fixing his collar.

"Oh shit indeed, Captain Birse. You didn't think an old man like me would be defenseless, did you? A man who spent his life locked in rooms with angry enemies? Dagger always underestimated Black Scythe, and for good reason. Andross was a fool. He never used us for the truly great assignments, never let us reach our full potential. But Colonel Torqinski has resurrected us. The Black Scythe will be more of a force than Andross ever was."

Before I could even blink, he dashed forward and slammed me with his shoulder. I had no time to recover before my stomach and face were assaulted with crushing blows. It reminded me of the beating Torqinski gave me back on the _Solar Wind. _I finally managed one solid hit, one that would have killed an ordinary old man, but he just smiled at it and floored me with a flawless roundhouse kick. I tried to get up, but he planted his foot on my back and my drained body couldn't fight it. Through my pounding heart I heard footsteps and I groaned. I had to get up. I was dead if I didn't.

But there was no fighting it. I opened my eyes and saw a dozen black boots, multiple soldiers standing over me. Tamran was saying something but I was having enough trouble keeping conscious. My arms were pulled behind me and my wrists cuffed. I felt a sharp pang of fear as I was lifted and led away, that delighted face smiling at me the whole time.

The air strike was on its way. The only thing I could hope for was that this distraction allowed Fox and Andrea to escape. At least my life wouldn't be lost in vain. I took one tower with me. It didn't comfort me much, but I had always wondered which of these death-defying missions would finally snag me. It looked like death had finally caught up with me on Fortuna. I closed my eyes, let my aching body go limp, and grimaced.

_-Chapter 14 coming soon-_


	14. Hero Within

Author's Note: Alright, I tried something new this chapter and I hope it's not too confusing. I figured it was time the third member of our little outcast team got an active voice. Enjoy this scene from Andrea's eyes. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy! -Foxmerc

CHAPTER 14  
Hero Within  
_West Relay, Fortuna  
0645 hours_

I shivered violently, but not from the icy wind whipping around West Relay's landing pad. I felt a nauseating pressure in the pit of my stomach, the same way I had back on Macbeth with Gage or on Katina when we went after Fox or even back when I first snuck aboard the Great Fox. It was just the pressure of moving through a deadly operation. I don't know how Gage and Fox lived with it for so long. Maybe if I actually got to finish Dagger training I'd have learned how to cope with it. Bitter? Maybe just a little.

I snapped my mind back into focus. No time to let my thoughts wander. Blinking lights slowly descended on us from the snowstorm; Fox was carefully setting the dropship down. The mission was almost over. The two soldiers that had escorted me up showed no sign of suspicion and Gage was almost certainly lurking around, ready to take out the guards once Fox landed and help the rescued prisoners aboard. It was almost over.

But, of course, my horrid luck came back to haunt me.

Fox landed alright after a bit of weaving and yawing and I nodded to the soldiers and said my farewells. As I neared the ship, I made out Fox's voice, seemingly distant in the heavy storm. He was yelling; that immediately made me shiver again. As I started to climb aboard I finally made out what he was yelling.

"Hurry up!"

I was no combat expert, but I knew that wasn't a good sign and immediately I felt a pang of fear for Gage. Something had happened to him. I instinctively looked behind me. One of the soldiers had his hand to his ear and was leaning away from the wind to hear his radio better. He jerked his head up. For one split second our eyes locked and it told me all I needed to know. I jumped the rest of the way aboard and started pushing the door closed, shouting, "Go! Go!" Lasers rattled the door as I finally got it shut, sealing away the gunfire and howling wind. Fox took off with a violent swerve that sent me sliding against the wall. After a long string of curses he let out his breath and all was silent. No gunfire, no roaring engines…and no Gage.

"What the hell's going on?" I demanded, pulling myself to my feet. "Where's Gage?"

Fox ripped his headset off and threw it down on the empty co-pilot's seat. He covered his eyes with his hand. "He was captured by a Black Scythe officer. They're holding him with the rest of the prisoners."

I gaped. Gage was the example of the perfect soldier in my book; to think someone in there outdid him surprised me…frightened me. But that wasn't what I really feared at the moment. I realized that I had feelings for him. I always suspected but I could never get a free moment to just sit and think about it. This screwed up mission jarred it into me big time. I felt a protectiveness for someone else that I never felt about anyone before, even myself.

"You have to call off the air strike," I said.

"I tried already. They only have a limited frequency to destroy the ballistics and they're already out of range."

"Then shoot them down!"

"I can't, dammit!" He pounded the control deck. "This piece of crap doesn't have the firepower or mobility."

I turned, burning tears welling in my eyes. I was lost. Gage was always there with the decisions. I looked around the dropship. It was teasing me; the ship was decked out with gear that any Special Forces soldier could take on an army with. But Fox had his hands full with the blizzard; I couldn't pilot the ship in this storm for three seconds before crashing and burning. And me…me…what could I ever do with it?

_You can do nothing._

I closed my eyes. Wolf's voice penetrated my mind, the same way it had haunted me for so many years. I was defenseless against it. My brother had always been right and had always been better than me at everything. He never cared for me but he sure cared about making sure I knew he was better. Hell, he was even prepared to sit back and let me be tortured. And even though he was dead, he was still right there in front of me on the dropship, his one eye boring into me. I looked away.

But for the first time, I looked back up.

Gage's voice overlapped Wolf's and my mind became clearer. I again looked around at the gear and slowly walked over to the locker where extra polymer "shadow" suits hung. I lifted a sleeve and let the smooth yet tough material slide through my fingers. After a moment I looked towards the cockpit and said, "How much time do we have before the strike hits?"

"Twenty-four minutes."

The base wasn't large; it was more of a glorified weather station, as Gage put it. In and out in twenty-four minutes…my mind worked through it. "Fox, head around the base. Drop me at the south landing pad."

"What?" He glanced back and saw me in the process of taking off my fake flight suit, a "shadow" suit on the seat beside me. "No, forget it. Andrea, he's being guarded by Black Scythe in a locked down building that's going to be vaporized in less than a half hour! You've never done something like this before. You'll be killed."

"So you want to leave Gage for dead?"

"No, but we have to find another way."

"If you have another idea, I'd love to hear it." I zipped the black suit, pulled my tail through the opening, and searched for gloves and boots. Fox remained silent while I finished off the garb and started with the equipment harness. After a few failed attempts at lining up the multiple buckles, I finally got it on and tight. "If you have nothing better, get to the landing pad."

He sighed and shook his head but flew on.

I put one of the NS-7 pistols in my holster, skipped the knife, and went straight for the assault rifle. One thing I was especially appreciative of in the equipment harness: plenty of ammo space. I jammed in as many mags as possible and loaded up. Feeling the hum of the gun as it powered up made my heart pound faster. It was then that I noticed the darkened Dagger insignia under the Cornerian flag on the left arm for when the members had to identify themselves to others. All the time wishing I was in Dagger, praying to be part of the real heroes, and this is how I finally got to wear the suit; a failed mercenary on a suicide mission.

"Ten seconds!" Fox shouted back to me. "You have twenty minutes before this place becomes a crater. I'll have to circle around, but trust me, I'll be here to pick you up 'till the end."

"I know you will. Thanks." I took a deep breath and gripped the starboard door. "Wish me luck."

"Don't trust luck," he replied. "As I always got pounded into me, Andrea, trust your instincts."

The ship vibrated as it hit the landing pad. I slid the door open and hopped out into the snow. Gage was right; the suit worked like a charm, blocking out all cold. A quick scan showed the landing pad was clear. I glanced back to see the dropship pull up and disappear once again into the wall of falling snow. This was it. Just me, the wind, and a base full of soldiers out for my blood. I took a few deep breaths. Gage needed me. Fuck my brother and fuck the past.

I took my cue from what little Dagger training I could remember from my short stint there. One was most obvious: keep surprise as long as possible. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and pulled out the pistol. I walked up to the icy door and flicked the switch beside it. It slid open and, after a quick peek, I moved into West Relay.

The prison would be at the bottom and stairs would take far too long. I'd have to compromise surprise a bit and find an elevator. The corridor before me was blessedly empty, thankfully; the sudden silence when the door slid shut behind me freaked me out for a few moments. I moved as silently as possible, my pistol up and leading the way. My first fight came quicker than I would have hoped. A soldier rounded the far corner and stopped, obviously shocked. My greatest fear was freezing in battle, but it fortunately didn't happen. I squeezed the trigger – squeeze, not pull, squeeze, not pull, thank you, Gage – and the guard fell, not a sound from the silenced bullet-loaded gun. But my celebration was cut short as I heard yelling from around the corner. Great, screwed up already. Someone had seen the soldier fall.

Swallowing down panic, I holstered the pistol and shouldered my rifle. And all of a sudden, the corridor was ablaze with noise, lasers, and puffs of dusty debris as shots tore up the wall and floor. I fired back, but I couldn't last without cover. I patted the equipment harness, feeling for anything useful, and came up with a small sphere the size of a golf ball. Memory kicked in; a flashbang. I squeezed the trigger, hurled it down the corridor, and looked away. After the loud bang, the firing stopped and I advanced.

Two soldiers lay on the ground, blinking wildly. I put a burst into each chest and let my breath out. But once again, soldiers felt the need to interrupt my celebration. I came under fire from the next corridor and fired back. Not even three minutes into the mission and already I was in over my head. Fox was right; this was insane. I flattened my back against the wall and looked down the hallway. Smack in the middle of the hall on the left was the elevator, chairs and a metal table beside it for waiting visitors. Of course, stupid. Standard design was to put base navigation near landing pads and parking lot entrances. The only problem was the nonstop barrage of gunfire from the end of the hall.

I changed out my mag and loosed a long burst down the hall. When return fire was lessened from 'certain death' to 'probable death,' I sprinted from cover to the elevator, heaved the metal table onto its side, punched the elevator call button, and ducked. The metal table was thick but it was starting to heat up and dent from the gunfire. I strummed my fingers on my gun, murmuring, "Come on, come on," and yipped when a hole was finally punched in the metal beside my head. The elevator doors opened with a pleasant ding and I dove in. I hit the lowest floor and let out my breath. There was no elevator music; I guess the mercs weren't all bad.

I realized I was shaking. I'd felt the dizzying mix of fear and adrenaline before, but never like this. Now that I thought about it, this was the first real mission I'd been on where something good was really at stake. I derailed that train of thought immediately; psyching myself out was not an option. I instead but my mind on a constant loop of both Gage and Fox's combat advice. Keep cool, keep focused, and trust my instincts.

"Keep cool," I said aloud to the empty elevator. Hearing it out loud helped to calm the hyperactive butterflies in my stomach. "Focus. Instincts."

I shouldered my rifle as the doors opened, ready for a fight. Instead I got a dead silence and a corridor that definitely looked like it belonged in a prison. I narrowed my eyes and inched forward until I saw the reason for the emptiness. I hastily-made sign hung on the wall by the elevator:

_Authorized personnel only on this floor. Disturb me at your own risk. --Tamran_

Somehow I knew that this Tamran was the man behind Gage's capture. It was almost as if I could hear the creepy inflection in the written words. My hunch was that this guy liked working alone and would only have a few guards. My hunch worked out for once. The prison level was small with only a few directions; a couple doors leading to equipment rooms and maintenance access and two more important doors: one marked "Cell Block" and the other marked "Interrogation." First thing was first. I had to find out where Gage was and I wanted to avoid Tamran in the process. Cell block was my best bet.

Readying myself again for a fight, I switched the metal door open and slid in. The dim light threw me off but I squinted and stayed calm. There were only three cells, all against one wall, and a desk at the far end with one bored guard behind it. He hopped to his feet, but I was quicker. I aimed at him and shouted, "Drop it! Don't move!" I realized he wasn't actually holding anything, but I think he got the message. I heard rustling in the cells behind me as the prisoners roused, but kept my focus on the frozen guard.

I moved up to the brown canine guard and shoved him against the wall. It felt good, released some tension. "Where's Gage Birse? Tell me now, or I'll…shoot you!"

Wonderful threat, very intimidating.

The guard looked like he wasn't taking it seriously, but I guess the look in my eyes made up for my crappy intimidation. He pursed his lips and said, "We just got him in a little while ago. Colonel Tamran's interrogating him now."

I grimaced. Well, no matter how good this Tamran guy was, if I surprised him and got off the first shot, he wasn't laser-proof. I noticed a few wrist restraints hanging from the wall and grabbed a pair. I told the guard to sit down and handcuffed him to the chair. For good measure, I smashed the comm set on the desk. I don't know why I did it; an air strike was on the way and would kill him anyway. I guess I just wasn't ready for execution-style shooting yet

On my way out, I looked at the bedraggled cell occupants and said, "I'll be back. I promise." If I survive, I didn't add.

I busted into the interrogation room but let out my breath as I saw I was in an anteroom. A large window took up the right wall and I nearly jumped when I saw people on the other side. They hadn't reacted yet. My heart started beating again when I realized it must be a one-way mirror, reflective on their end. I couldn't have asked for a better way to study my goal. Two guards stood at attention in the far corners and an elderly lizard stood in front of a table in the lizard. I assumed the lizard was Colonel Tamran. The ordinary table had been converted into a more sinister object; Gage lay on it, clamped down at the wrists and ankles. I felt pain upon seeing his face. It was bruised as if he had received a bad beating and he stared straight up with a deathly look. He knew the air strike was on its way. As far as he was concerned, he was already dead. Any waning resolve I had was strengthened at that moment. The plan was simple; bust in, cap the old lizard first, and take down the guards while they were recoiling from surprise. I contemplated using a flashbang, but I didn't know Gage's condition and I didn't want to hurt him.

I took a deep breath. Then another. On the third deep breath, I slid the door open and hopped in like the cavalry, my finger already squeezing the trigger. I have no idea what happened then. I got off a shot, but it only hit empty air. The old bastard had ducked away, fast as lightning! Before I knew it, my gun had been kicked out of my hand and my face felt as if Fox's dropship had landed on it. Next thing I knew, I was looking up from the ground at the old man, a disappointed look on his face.

"This one is not Dagger," he spat. "She's weak. I won't waste my time. Guards, kill her and get her body out of here."

My throat tightened. This was it; I had failed. And this time failure meant death for both me and Gage. I looked forlornly up as one of the guards hovered over me and leveled his rifle. But he didn't fire immediately. I focused my eyes and saw that he was an avian. And through the goggles and helmet, I saw his eyes and I knew them. Not personally, but from somewhere…

To my total surprise, he whirled around and brought the butt of the rifle down square on the back of Tamran's neck. Without missing a beat, he shouldered it and fired a perfect burst into the other guard's chest. To my even greater surprise, Tamran actually stood from the blow and kicked the mystery soldier away. The blow hurt me just looking at it and the soldier dropped his rifle. He went for it, but a light speed punch from Tamran sent him back again. He pulled off the goggles and helmet and I finally recognized him without doubt. It was the greatest surprise of the day: Falco Lombardi.

"You," Tamran snarled. "Torqinski should have killed you when he had the chance. You should be proud. Not many soldiers turn traitor twice in one war."

Falco growled and advanced. He ducked another punch and came back with an uppercut that made Tamran recoil. The two exchanged blows while I looked around for my rifle. I realized my pistol was gone also. Tamran must have disarmed me while he beat me senseless. Both guns lay on the other side of the room. I kept low and crawled to the table. Gage was up and about now, struggling against the clamps. I saw they were held by bolts under the table and slid them all out. Gage hopped off the table and stretched his limbs. Tamran had his back to him and didn't notice. But Falco did.

"You won't be the end of me," Tamran said as he advanced on Falco. "My life lies with my brothers in the Black Scythe, forever."

Falco landed a hard kick to Tamran's stomach that propelled him back…right into Gage. The fox grabbed him in a headlock and growled into his ear with an otherworldly anger, "They'll meet you in Hell soon enough."

He pulled, hard, and a wet snap echoed in the room. Tamran fell, his head lolling on the broken neck. I swallowed nausea and stood. The fights had put in perspective how stupid my inhibitions were; I hugged him tight and he hugged me back.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded. I could tell from the bloody forehead and labored breathing that he was far from perfect. "Alright" would have to do for the moment. Fortunately, it looked like Tamran hadn't gotten around to "interrogating" him yet. We looked over at Falco. With one feathered hand he dabbed a nasty cut above his right eye and with the other he threw Gage a rifle.

"Do you trust me?" he asked simply.

"A half dozen missiles are going to destroy this place in less than ten minutes. I don't have a choice right now. Fox is flying, though. I don't know what he'll do."

"I know. I'll take my chances." Falco picked up a rifle for himself while I retrieved mine. "We have to get the prisoners out of here. I'll go in first and take out the guard."

"I already took care of him," I said. Gage looked at me and grinned a bit. I recognized it as his impressed look and a bit of pride swelled in my chest.

"Alright then, let's go pick them up."

"You two go ahead," Gage said. "Which pad is Fox meeting us at?"

"South," I replied.

"I have to take care of something. I'll meet you by the elevator on that floor."

I didn't voice my concern. Gage knew what he was doing. I instead followed Falco as he led the way to the cell block. The prisoners were overjoyed to see us, the guard less enthused. Falco shouted for them all to keep tight and told me to cover the rear. I did so. It was only when we got to the elevator when we realized it would take two trips to get them all up. Time was ticking, so we moved as fast as the damn elevator would allow. He went up with the first bunch and I brought the second group up. By time we were all gathered in the corridor, I saw Falco had taken out a soldier and Gage was back, two very nervous-looking women in merc uniforms with him.

"What's this all about?" Falco asked him.

"We met in the ladies' room earlier," he said with a little grin. "Leaving them to be vaporized just sort of itched at me." He turned to them and said, "Follow us if you want to live. You won't be harmed."

They both nodded.

The blistering cold was actually a nice welcome and I saw the same feeling reflected in the prisoners' faces. Fox was there as he promised and he had his worried look on. He shouted something and this time I didn't need to be told he was telling us to hurry our asses up. We piled in, the dropship's space sufficient for all of us, and he pulled away.

"Let's stay for the fireworks!" Gage shouted up to Fox.

I swallowed when I saw Fox had to circle for only two minutes before a blinding light pierced the blizzard. The relay station erupted in a pillar of fire that burned extra bright in the dreary snow. I looked away from the window and at Gage. He looked at me and sat with a weary sigh. He smiled and gave me a tired thumbs-up. I knew we would talk later but that was the best kind of appreciation I wanted.

We both swallowed when we reached orbit as we saw that Fox had put the dropship on auto-pilot and was coming back to see us. He was smiling too, but it fell faster than a rockslide when he saw Falco sitting in the back amongst the former prisoners. Falco stood and lowered his eyes. Fox looked to Gage for an explanation.

"He helped rescue me," Gage said. "He saved Andrea's life."

Fox again looked up at Falco with a fiery gaze that I'd never seen in him before. Falco met his eyes and said in a low voice, "Fox, I want to talk. No bullshit. Can we go to the cockpit?"

Fox must have stared at him for a good minute, all of us in silence, even the Cornerian soldiers. He finally turned away without a word and went back to the pilot's seat. Falco hesitated, but followed and dropped into the co-pilot's seat. I was pretty certain that at least no shooting would break out so I leaned back and rested. After a few seconds, a small smile returned to my face and stayed there for the whole trip.

I had done it. I may not have been officially in Dagger, but at least I could finally say I knew how a superhero felt.

_-Chapter 15 coming soon-_


	15. Heroes Reborn

Author's Note: Once again, apologies for the long time between updates. This time I can blame school starting. The good news (or bad news if you look at it that way) is that you won't have to put up with it much longer. This is a relatively short chapter because it's setting up for the final chapter. My plan is one more chapter, then an epilogue. The plan might change, but we'll see. There's also been talk of a sequel, but I'd have to think more on that. Anyway, as always, thank you for reading and sticking with it and enjoy! --Foxmerc

CHAPTER 15  
Heroes Reborn  
_Fortuna orbit  
0733 hours_

I didn't quite know how to react as Falco sunk into the co-pilot's seat. So I didn't react. I touched a switch on the control board that raised the divider between us and the rest of the dropship and simply stared through the canopy into deep space. We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, my hands folded over my pistol on my lap. I didn't know if Falco saw it and I didn't really care.

"So Gage is still crazy as ever, eh?" he finally said. "And I see he found a girl just as crazy."

I didn't.

"Look, Fox, I—"

"What are you doing here?"

He glanced at me for a moment then joined me in staring out at the stars.

"I couldn't just go," he replied. "I fucked up and I wanted to make things right. You're still in the middle of this mercenary war and that's no time to bail. So I listened in on your radio chatter and tapped the _Solar Wind's_ comm frequency. I didn't put up with Slippy all those years without learning a few things. So I came here ahead of you and posed as a merc in case you needed a hand. Looks like it was a good move."

I shook my head. "So what now? Forgive and forget? Forget that Peppy's still in critical condition, forget that you sold me out and nearly got me killed. I vowed I would never make the same mistake as my father; I made damn sure I fully trusted everyone on my team. It looks like I failed that."

"Fox—"

"How could I even think to trust you again? What makes you any better than Pigma?"

His head snapped in my direction and he looked at me through wide eyes. I was almost relieved to see that I struck a nerve. He didn't have an answer for me, but I saw the answer in how he set his jaw and looked forward again: he was here, remorseful, whereas Pigma had still tried to kill me for years. It didn't change much in my mind. A remorseful traitor still had the potential to betray again. But there was something different about Falco. He always loved to get into arguments because it gave him an excuse to be combative and yell back. But now, his eyes took on a distant depth and he remained silent. It was the kind of look he had back on that God-forsaken island where I first discovered his "alternate allegiance." It was the look of a broken man who knew it.

I thought for a moment. I knew Falco's background. He grew up on the streets, raised by gangs. No matter how much he evolved as a person, that childhood would always be there. Everyone makes mistakes, as they say…his just had the capacity to be a little bigger. I guess my real pain came from being uncertain as to whether I, the team, or StarFox ever truly meant anything to him. Was our friendship or his loyalty ever real?

"Do you remember back towards the end of the war," I said, "when the Great Fox took a missile hit to the wing in Sector Z? We had to stay at that repair station on Macbeth for a week before we could continue to Area 6."

He nodded.

"And I was feeling really down. We had all nearly died and the whole war was starting to wear me down. I got the team together. I was afraid you guys were fed up also and wouldn't want to continue, so I gave you all the option of staying back. Peppy and Slippy wouldn't hear anything of it, but you said something that night that stuck with me all these years. It was probably the first thing that made me realize that we, the team, were a family. Do you remember what it was?"

He nodded without a moment's hesitation, but didn't speak. That took a bit more effort. Finally, he said, "We fly together, we die together."

I felt a little comfort knowing he remembered that. If there was one thing Falco was really terrible at, it was faking emotions. His proud nature would never let him show even false weakness. I dug and rustled through myself to find any sort of kindness that hadn't yet been turned cynical by this war. I remembered how I turned on Gage and he didn't give up on me. I was no saint. Perhaps, after the courage he had showed in the relay station, I at least owed Falco a chance.

"You'll have to make your own case to get Slippy back on your side," I said. "But I'll let you hang around. We'll see if we can salvage something from this whole mess."

He looked at me with a little grin. "Thanks, Fox."

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

There was nothing I would've liked better than a little R and R on the _Solar Wind_. I was glad Andrea kept to herself most of the flight back; I had a hard enough time hiding my shaking hand from the rest of the guys. I'm not the kind of guy who shrinks and sucks his thumb when things get rough. Don't even begin to think that. I know enough people who can vouch for me the other way. But no matter how hardened years of battle make a soldier, he still has a breaking point. Prisons were my peeve, my secret demon. My real military career started in one. I was a POW back in the first months of the war when I was a little snot-nosed teenage private. Long story short, something triggered my inner toughness and I eventually led a breakout. The whole thing caught the eye of some Special Forces officers and the rest is history. But those months I spent in a Venom military prison…let's just say it's the kind of thing that would haunt you. Having the old memories rush back in the basement of West Relay didn't exactly start my day out right. However, though my hands might shake, they could still grip a gun and get to work.

I couldn't believe Andrea came after me. I couldn't believe even more that she made it that far. Quite a few surprises in her. She might not have the best training or the best precision with a gun, but she proved one thing I always lived by: a true purpose in battle is more of a drive than anything else. I guess that's why she, me, and Fox even survived this long. It's why Lylat eventually won against Andross, that's for sure. What purpose did she have? A thought both troubling and happy came into my head.

Was she falling for me the same way I was falling for her?

I derailed that train of thought. Gage Birse the husband? Love and the job don't mix. Even if it was true, I had to stay focused. Our morning jaunt around West Relay proved that something big was going down. I just hoped those files I managed to transfer showed us something useful.

When we finally began docking procedures, I stood with a groan and asked around the former prisoners until I found the highest ranking one, a Captain Harris. I told him to keep his people together and await orders…after the Admiral found out he suddenly had a few dozen more soldiers to accommodate. He nodded and as I stood to leave, he suddenly grabbed my arm, looked me straight in the eye, and said the most sincere "thank you" I ever heard. I nodded back to him and glanced over at Andrea. She had heard and a big grin was plastered on her gray muzzle. She didn't care that the thanks wasn't directed towards her; Harris was thankful for the rescue, and she knew she pulled it off. She definitely had the humility of a Dagger man…the tolerance to put it all on the line every day and never receive even recognition in return. So goes life in black ops.

Speak of the devil…

The hangar was crowded with crewmen and medics tending to the former prisoners and engineers stabilizing the dropship. And there in the middle of it all, staring up at me and standing like they were posing for a gun nut magazine, unaffected by the hectic atmosphere, was my team, the almighty Dagger, my brothers – and sister – in arms. I felt a wave of happiness at seeing them as if I was meeting my family at the airport. Upon seeing me, they came to attention and saluted. I saluted back and grinned.

"There goes the neighborhood."

I glanced to see Fox beside me, a little smile on his muzzle. If any phrase described Dagger, that was it.

"Was that the note you had me take to the radioman? To tell Dagger to come here?"

I nodded. "I'm glad I did. My hunch about the magnitude of what Arthur has planned was right." I turned and waved to Andrea, who was hanging back in the ship. "You want to meet the team?"

Her eyes widened as if I just asked if she wanted to meet the President. She hesitantly walked up to me and I put my arm around her waist before walking towards them with Fox…just to kept her from bolting away, nothing more.

I cleared my throat and raised my voice above the noise in the hangar. "Gentlemen and gentleman wannabes…"

Ley, our token female member, rolled her eyes.

"…you all know Fox. This is Andrea O'Donnell. She's been a fantastic help to us up here, so treat her like one of the team. Andrea, let's go down the line."

I gestured to the first black-clad member, a young raccoon, my age. "That's Lieutenant Hart, second assault, my right hand man."

I moved on to a large bear with a deep gash over one eye and a surly complexion. "Master Sergeant Braddock, heavy weapon support. I haven't yet seen a large gun this guy can't hit a dime with. He's also the cheeriest one of the team."

Scattered chuckles came from the group. I continued on to a pretty leopardess, slight compared to the other members but standing with her own usual air of confidence. "Sergeant Ley, recon. If you gave her any address in the galaxy, she'd have it painted for an air strike within five minutes without being seen by anyone on the way."

She grinned sarcastically. "I've already tried on Gage's apartment."

"Yeah, cute. Anyway, moving on…" I turned to a wolf with a green headband. "That's Sergeant DeLaine, our sniper. If you thought I was a good shot, watch this guy in action. If you hold out your arms, he can shoot your shirt off and you wouldn't even feel it."

Andrea looked over to see the wolf's half-grin as he said, "True story."

"And hanging out at the end," I continued, gesturing to a burly tiger, "is Sergeant Tienkintensce. Even he doesn't know where the hell that name comes from. We just call him Tien. He's our engineer and explosives man. You know that stereotypical wide-eyed maniac who likes to blow up everything in those action movies? That's him."

"I just like what I do," Tien retorted.

I glanced at Fox, then at the hangar exit. "Well, I really wish we could drop everything and have a beer, but I think we need to get right down to business. Meet in the ops room ASAP and I'll fill you in."

I laid it all out in the ops room; every single second of combat I've been in since I left the Corneria HQ that day that seemed so long ago. Everything from the battle in the streets of the city to Torqinski's betrayal to just that morning. The mood steadily darkened, especially after mention of the Back Scythe. By the end, everyone was staring off with unfocused eyes, but I knew they were listening as intently as I could ask for. A little surprise awaited me as well. The engineers on the _Solar Wind _had decrypted the information I sent from West Relay and, like the old lizard said, everything was there. Unfortunately, a bit more than I planned for.

"I should get to the point, which is why I called you all up here," I finally said after everything that could be explained had been. "With this new intel from the West Relay files, every fear I had has been proven. Arthur Torqinski and his remnants of Black Scythe are trying to recreate Andross' first plan…the first Dagger mission. With these receptor towers posing as weather stations or comm relays, he's going to launch a single missile towards Solar from Venom. But this isn't an EMP attack. He's not aiming to take down defenses. He's using Andross' last technology before his defeat, an extremely advanced type of nuclear reaction. When that one missile explodes in the dead center of the galaxy, each tower is going to absorb the mass dispersion energy and explode in turn. The effect: a couple dozen of the most powerful nuclear explosions the universe has ever seen. God knows how many will die. And Arthur and his mercenary army will be there to clean up whoever's left.

"This bounty for Fox was a distraction, and it worked. The military was occupied dealing with it and they withdrew forces in case the mercs became too bold. As we all saw in Corneria City on the second day, they were right. And bumping Fox off would be a nice bonus for Arthur. But now, even though we know the exact location the missile will be launched from, we have absolutely no military presence that can react in time. The launch is in thirty-six hours. Slow-ass bureaucrats on Corneria can't sort out a military operation in that time." I sighed and hesitated before adding my final comment. "The only thing available is the _Solar Wind. _And the only combat personnel available are us."

"Six soldiers assaulting a military installation on Venom?" Tien asked.

"Seven," a voice answered before I could. I looked at Andrea. She stared back with a look I've never seen before, as if I'd shatter her if I contradicted it. I just nodded.

"Seven soldiers, yes. Before I put a plan together, I need to know that everyone's in. This isn't an official military operation, so no one has to go."

There was a moment of silence before the first voice, Braddock, spoke up. "They don't pay us to pick 'em. I go where you go, Cap." His comment was followed by nods of consent by everyone. I didn't doubt for a moment that no one would decline.

I nodded. "In that case, everyone get some rest and we'll meet back here tonight. I'll have something tonight. Fox, you too. I might have a job for you."

"You want me to be the chauffeur again?"

"No, you'll like it."

"If it involves me shooting mercs, count me in."

"In that case, you'll really like it."

I waited until everyone left before turning to the piles of intel on a nearby desk. I had that new feeling again stirring in the pit of my stomach; an unusual type of fear. The fate of the first Dagger wouldn't get out of my head. Sure, they succeeded, but at what cost? Nearly the entire team was wiped out. My men knew that also. I was deeply impressed that they still agreed to go with no more than a blink of hesitation. Now I had my job. I had to find a way to make this operation work and I had to get my team home alive.

I had always idolized the courage and leadership of the first Dagger commander. Now I was in his exact position. Did I have what it takes? Could I live up to the legacy? If I couldn't, then more people would die than just my team. With a deep breath, I opened the first file and focused.

_-Chapter 16 coming soon-_


	16. A Dagger to the Heart

Author's Note: I know it's been, well, too long since I updated. But I swore I would finish this and I'm going to. Many things have kept me from writing, especially this, but I want to finish it and finish it strongly. To constant readers, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the rest. To new readers, I hope you enjoy the whole story from the start. So thanks again and enjoy! --Foxmerc

  
CHAPTER 16  
A Dagger to the Heart  
_Venom atmosphere  
1233 hours_

Five minutes into Venom's airspace. Their radar definitely would have picked up the dropship by now. I gripped the sidebar, took a deep breath, and looked around the red-tinted interior at my team, each steadying himself (and herself) as the ship jarred and quaked. I always hated dropships, especially the windowless armored classes. God knows which way we were going or how bad the situation looked outside. They always felt like metal coffins on their way to being buried at very high speeds. The good news was that there wouldn't be much left to worry about sending home to mother if we got shot down.

The pilot's voice crackled in my ear. "Four minutes."

I released by harness, stood, and raised my hand for my team's attention. We weren't even in the hot air yet and I felt sweat being sopped up by my desert camo. "Listen up! Check your weapons and prepare for rapid deployment. Remember the briefing; Federjak is a poor, congested city that was built for Venom army soldiers. It's old with twisting streets, stucco and brownstone buildings…all the stuff that makes urban combat a nightmare. The missile launch facility is right on the outskirts, so it's safe to say the remnant forces still use Federjak. Avoid the city at all costs; we'll be dropped near the facility so there's no reason to go near it. Primary evac LZ will be to the south-west once the facility is blown. All remnant forces are shoot on sight. It's a safe bet Arthur Torqinski of the Black Scythe is here. Use caution. Any questions?"

No questions.

"Stay focused, stay alert, and we'll all go home. Follow my—" A sharp hit smacked the dropship and I immediately smelled smoke.

"Triple-A on the ground," the pilot said over the radio, his voice cool but curt. "Tagged the starboard engine. We might need to make an emergency landing, prepare for—"

Another hit filled the ship with smoke and I didn't need the pilot to tell me that we were going down. I dropped back into my seat as warning alarms blared and gravity gave me a splitting headache. I barely had time to call out, "Prepare for impact!" before my innards rolled and the deafening sound of crunching metal filled my ears.

Then all went dark.

I opened my eyes to two very unpleasant things: bright light and gunfire. A hot breeze stung my cheek with Venomian sand and I had to blink a good dozen times before I could sit up and look around. Ley knelt over me and beyond her I saw a sight that made my gut wrench. The dropship had crashed in an alleyway between two rundown buildings and lasers criss-crossed the air above us. We landed in Federjak, the hometown of the remnant Venom soldiers.

"You alright, sir?" Ley asked. She held my rifle, which I took as I stood, my head still roiling.

"What's the situation?"

She hooked a thumb at the wrecked dropship. "The pilot's dead. Tien lost a tooth, but that's it, besides some cuts and bruises. DeLaine can see the missile site from this roof here. He figures we're only a few klicks out. Remnant soldiers are already converging on our position.

I nodded, ignoring the voice in my head that told me the game was over. I smacked the side of my helmet, heard the faint blip that told me my radio still worked, and clicked it on. "Dagger, assemble on the south alley. Hart, cover the rear. We'll move in a single-line formation."

I took the lead and started the mission off with a three-round burst down the alley that dropped a soldier. I didn't get to feel proud of myself for long; a hellfire of lasers rained on us from rooftops and street level when we rounded the alley into a wider road. We hoofed it, taking cover behind vehicles and doorways, returning sporadic fire when we could. Braddock pulled out the bipod on his heavy MG, dropped it on the roof of a car, and let loose with a barrage that chewed up the buildings. Soldiers dropped and soon the hellfire became a light drizzle. The rest of us took aim and popped any that decided to peek out.

Though playing peek-a-boo with my rifle was more fun than being shot at, we had to move. If any civilians did still hang around, they took the hint and got their asses indoors. Plenty of soldiers still lurked. I was tipped off when a chunk of the wall beside me exploded. We ducked behind cover as Hart shouted out the obvious. "Sniper!"

"I got it," DeLaine called back. "Tower west."

I glanced at the tower in the distance. Sure seemed likely, though I couldn't see a bloody thing. DeLaine dropped to prone, the wolf's tail twitching back and forth as always when he concentrated on a target. He steadied his breathing, the scope against his right eye, and didn't even flinch when another shot kicked up rubble by his arm. His return fire pierced the air and I could barely see a shadow of a form fall from the tower.

"Hell yeah," he said with a grin as he hopped to his feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement from a rooftop. I swiveled and fired, but I dropped the soldier too late. He managed to loose a burst at the only one of us not under cover. It was rushed, a lucky shot. That's the only thing we in Dagger fear…lucky shots. DeLaine dropped, his rifle clattering beside him.

"Damn it!" I broke cover, fire from both sides immediately erupting. I grabbed his ammo belt and dragged him back behind the vehicle, but it was too late. One of the lasers cut right through his heart. I clenched my eyes shut and balled my hands into fists over his dead body. There was nothing I could do. We had to move. And worse, we had to leave him behind. I looked at my team. Their pained faces told me they knew that.

"Move out," I said in a strained voice. Then, more strongly, "Get to that corner! Go!"

I ejected my mag and slapped in my third. Ammo was plentiful, but so were the enemy soldiers. I stopped counting around fifteen when my eardrums started aching. After another two blocks of running from cover to cover and returning fire, I peeked around the corner and breathed in relief. The road ended in a gate which led to another half mile or so of open desert, then the missile facility. Unfortunately, a line of soldiers, two tanks, and a machine gun-mounted buggy were waiting to say hello to us and I don't think they were going to offer us a free tour.

"Tien," I said. The tiger moved up the line to my shoulder. "Take a look."

He glanced around the corner and ducked back. "Doesn't look too friendly."

"That buggy would be great for quickly traversing the open ground between here and the facility, don't you think?"

"I don't think I'm charming enough to seduce the keys away from him, sir."

"Did your launcher survive the crash?"

He patted the cylinder slung over his shoulder. "Eager and waiting, sir."

"Think you can blow the tanks without damaging the buggy."

Tien wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "It's unarmored. If the explosion doesn't get it, the shrapnel will."

I nodded and bit my lower muzzle in thought. "Ley."

She skirted up next to me. I had her take a look as well. She came back with raised eyebrows. "Even I'm not charming enough for that."

"You don't need to be. They're all facing this way. Think you can get around behind them and back that buggy up so Tien can play with the tanks?"

She looked up at the low roof and nodded. "Just do it before those soldiers notice."

"We'll throw smoke. The launcher has thermal imaging."

She clambered up the side of the building, finding footholds and shimmying the way only an intensely trained scout could. She disappeared onto the roof. After a couple minutes, I gave another look and told Tien to ready his launcher. A couple tense minutes later, a silent shadow alighted onto the sand behind the buggy, knife in her hand. It was like watching a move on mute: she cut the gunner's and driver's throats and dragged them out without even a scuff of noise. When she lowered herself into the driver's seat, I popped a smoke grenade, threw it with the energy of my youth in baseball, and hit Tien on the shoulder. He spun around the corner, dropped to one knee, and fired off a blue energy blast that produced one explosively charred tank. Before the other could swivel its gun, he targeted it and fired. The tank managed to get off a shot before it was blown to oblivion, but it connected against the building across the street and took out most of the wall. Ley mopped up the remaining troops with the buggy's machine gun.

We regrouped and Ley clutched her arm with an annoyed look. Some shrapnel had tagged her after all. Tien shrugged innocently and repeated his most-used phrase: "Explosions are wild beings."

"Take a short rest," I said as I patched up Ley's arm. "Don't let your guard down. The real mission still awaits."

I leaned up against the buggy, rifle lax at my side yet ready to be raised at a moment's notice, and kept watch on the left side of the street. The soldiers weren't formal in their attack or defense; we must have literally just woken up the neighborhood. No doubt a real attack would be called in soon. We would have to move within the next few minutes. Until then, I tried to get my train of thought back on track. I couldn't afford to let DeLaine's death affect me now. I breathed in the hot, dusty air and took a gulp from my canteen. I allowed myself one final thought of the mission before walking to the buggy and taking the front passenger seat.

"Let's move."

* * *

_Macbeth airspace  
1304 hours  
_

A knot formed in my stomach as I looked out the transport window. It spread below us, a vast complex built in the middle of a Macbethian rainforest. It looked as solidly built as any military complex, but I expected that when Torqinski was in charge. A smudge on the window obscured my view a little and I would've wiped it away…if my hands weren't cuffed behind my back. As we descended to land, I shot a glance at Andrea, who was restrained the same way, and received a worried look back. We both looked at Falco in the pilot's seat.

"Unidentified craft, respond."

Falco's radio sputtered to life. He hit the receiver. "This is Lombardi. Tell Pritchard of the Wraiths that I come with gifts."

"State your business."

"I have Fox McCloud and Andrea O'Donnell."

A long silence.

"Look, just tell Pritchard to meet me at Bay 1."

"Roger. Cleared to land."

When we touched down, Falco pulled us to our feet and led us by our arms down the ramp. A door at the far end of the bay slid open and a white tiger entered, flanked by four armed men in white uniforms. The Wraiths, a particularly nasty merc group that prides itself on being stealthy. Pritchard was slight in appearance but rumor and reputation placed him as one of the top killers in the galaxy. I wouldn't doubt it; I'd had a run-in or two with his cronies in the past. Falco released us and stepped forward.

"You were right," Falco said with a wide grin. "I gotta hand it to you, it worked perfectly. I knew he'd take me back if I played the regretful ass-kisser well enough."

Pritchard gave him a wary look but soon smiled back. "Subtlety always wins out over force, Lombardi. Your timing couldn't have been better. All the heads are here in anticipation of General Torqinski's attack. When they see that we brought in McCloud and the traitor from the Vipers, those who doubt the plan will have faith." He directed his eyes towards me. "You'll learn a lesson in subtlety here, McCloud. Corneria has always fought Venom and Venom has always fought Corneria. But it will be an alliance of mercenaries that ultimately wins. It's a shame you didn't want in on it."

"Go to hell."

Pritchard just chuckled. I hated the bastard already. "My men will escort them to the holding cells. Come with me, Lombardi. We need to let the heads know."

Falco nodded and stepped back as the four mercs took us by the shoulders and roughly pushed us forward. I didn't resist; I just waited for the light show. The first merc, the one by Andrea's right, dropped without a sound, just a flash of red light. The one next to me turned but caught a silenced laser in the head that dropped him as well. Unfortunately, he fell roughly and alerted the three remaining Wraiths. Falco was able to pop one more before Pritchard and his remaining merc fired back. Andrea and I hit the deck as Falco dropped the last merc and clicked on a depleted energy clip. Pritchard fired wildly as he bolted for the door. He got away, but it didn't matter. He'd only die tired.

"Son of a bitch," Falco cursed. "That could've gone better. Good plan in theory." He unlocked our cuffs and we ran back to the transport. The alarm would be raised, but we all knew it would have been eventually anyway. We packed a few assault rifles, half a dozen submachine guns, lots of pistols, and enough ammo to supply army basic for a year…and we made use of all of it. Loaded and ready for the base ahead of us, we stepped back into the docking bay just as the alarm blared.

"Once we locate the map, we'll split up. You two go for the Viper prisoners LaMonte mentioned. With their help, go to the west generator and set your charge. Kill any merc you see. I'll head for the east generator and blow it. ROB will cover the docking bays with the Great Fox's main gun and blow away anyone trying to leave. Once the charges are set, we book it. Ok?"

They nodded but I added one more thing.

"Remember what they're trying to do and remember what they did to us. The Arcothans, the Wraiths, Ice Storm, the Curse, the Bloodhounds, and the Warriors. We're not leaving until the heads of each mercenary group are killed and this complex lies in ruins. We have to take them all out. All of them. Whatever it takes. We got it?"

Falco nodded. "We fly together, we die together."

Andrea nodded solemnly. I was still touched that she opted to help us rather than accompany Dagger. Gage was more than happy to keep her away from his near-suicide mission as well, though this mission wasn't turning out much better.

With that, we turned to the door, Falco's words still echoing off the steel walls.

_-Conclusion coming soon- (For real)_


	17. The Reckoning

Author's Note: Well, upon seeing what the word count was working up to, I decided to split the conclusion into two chapters. This chapter is Fox's conclusion and Chapter 18 will be Gage's, with an epilogue. As always, thanks for reading and for the reviews. In light of some reviews, I'd like to point out that my fics are sort of a double-edged sword. My primary writing is not here, but rather mainly 3rd person of different genres. has always been sort of my "practice" area where I try new styles or approaches to writing as well as just plain old recreational fun writing like this fic. First person has always been just a fun thing to do that I'd need to really examine if I ever wanted to take it further. But even with recreational writing, I always welcome constructive criticism, so thanks again. But please, please, please don't take my fics like Shattered Past as representation of my writing now ) So without further ado, please enjoy Fox's conclusion -Foxmerc

CHAPTER 17  
The Reckoning  
_Macbeth  
1314 hours_

There were plenty of people I could have blamed. I could've blamed the entire Cornerian army for not backing me up, or Falco for betraying me, or Pepper for not aiding me more, or Wolf for being a general ass to me, or soda manufacturers for making me sluggish and sugar-high, but ultimately I knew it there was no one to blame. If anyone should've been blamed, it was me. For years, the "good" mercs and "bad" mercs have been at odds, never resorting to more than a few spats of violence here and there. But I hated them. I hated the name they gave mercenaries. I always thought that something should have been done to prevent the threat they posed to people, but I always had something better to do. Now, out of my element – if only the Arwing could fit through hallways – hunkered in a utility closet while an alarm blared and a base full of mercs ran around in search of blood, I knew I was reaping my neglectful karma.

And yet, it didn't bother me. I could envision my father shaking his head and giving me a pleading look even as I thought it, but I was surprisingly relieved that that the battle long in the making was finally at hand. The mercs brought hell down upon me, and I came to return the favor.

I flattened my back against the wall in the dark closet and rested my head against my rifle barrel. The cold metal cooled my sweating forehead. Footsteps still pounded the corridor outside like a hurricane. Falco and Andrea had apparently made a big bang somewhere. When they finally subsided, I shouldered my rifle and slipped into the bright corridor. The merc base was designed with a military fashion – metal above, below, and to the sides, alarms and fire extinguishers every ten or so meters, bright lights, and lots of security measures…a warm, cozy home for any nut like Torqinski. It made the Great Fox look like a floating rustic cottage.

Each door was locked by a magnetic keycard swipe. Luckily, the Wraiths keep their guys well equipped and I snagged a key from one of the mercs that Falco downed. I ran my mission one more time through my head: sabotage the generator in this wing, six mercenary leaders to kill in the process, a lot of lackeys to wade through. I remembered the most important lesson about firearms I ever learned: a calm, steady shooter will always defeat a fast, reckless one. I steadied my nerves with a few deep breaths and moved down the corridor.

I got the drop on a group of Arcothans moving the other way and dropped all three before they could get a shot off. The first of many deafening shots echoed off the bare walls. Unfortunately, they stirred the hornets' nest. Mercs of every allegiance turned the far corner and fired at me. Normally, I'd kiss the deck behind the first bit of cover I could find, but this time I felt something else. Call it fearlessness brought on by stress, call it divine intervention, call it the "zone"…but whatever made me do it, I knelt, pulled my rifle hard against my shoulder, lined up my sights while lasers singed my fur and threatened to make spray paint of my brain, and fired the most perfect shots I'd ever managed to shoot. The "zone" was a bit more sinister than it first seemed, though. When my rifle clicked on empty and a few enemies still remained, I didn't reload. I dropped my rifle and stood, spittle seeping through my fritted teeth. I only saw red. I pulled my two pistols from their holsters and fired as I half-jogged towards them. They backpedaled, if only from the shock of my insane charge. When my pistols clicked, I dropped them as well, broke into a sprint, and pulled my combat knife from its sheath. I never received knife training – not much use for a knife in an Arwing unless you had to loosen a screw – but it seemed pretty straightforward: stick the sharp end in the enemy. I smacked away the first merc's gun and shoved the knife up into his chest. I kicked the one remaining (and very scared) merc into the wall and struck so hard that the knife went through his throat and embedded itself into the metal wall. I tugged until it was free and let the merc slump to the ground.

The haze lifted. I looked at the carnage around me: scorch marks, blood, over a dozen dead mercs…and me, my chest rising and falling with strained breath. With a tinge of fear, I realized that I wasn't affected by any benign "zone." The rage that had boiled in my blood had taken control over my body. I was driven by the needful desire to wipe these chunks of living shit from the galaxy, even if it cost me my life. Hands shaking from the effects of rage and adrenaline, I gathered my weapons, reloaded them, and checked the dead. Just lackeys, of course. The officers would be holed up.

I couldn't stop to think. Rifle again at the ready, I continued to the elevator. The next few skirmishes went more to plan: short, controlled firing and no suicide rushes. I finally reached the elevator, but five mercs – two Curse and three Icestorm – guarded it. They were ready for me and pinned me behind the corner. I stuck my rifle around for some blindfire but it had little effect. With a grimace, I unhooked a grenade from my vest. I always hated grenades; ever since I first used one, I always had a fear that mine would malfunction and blow in my hand. I popped the top, pushed the button, and gave a nice sidearm throw around the corner…and glanced around just long enough to watch it smack into the helmet of a ballsy merc two feet away who decided to advance on me. We both blinked as the grenade dropped with a plunk between us, then we both hit the deck practically on top of each other. I felt the explosion, but fortunately not in a bloody, dismembering way. Ears ringing, I recovered quickly and pulled the Icestorm merc to his feet. He tried to fight back, but I tossed his gun away and held him in a tight chokehold. My new hostage kept the other mercs at bay…or, more accurately, it kept the Icestorm mercs at bay. The two Curse fired without a care in the world. Their Icestorm partners didn't approve of that. I let my now-dead shield fall to the floor and stood back while nature took its course. It was just a matter of dropping the one Curse survivor with a single shot like a period to bring the bout to a close.

I inspected the bodies and noticed that the Icestorm mercs had gold lining on their blue uniform lapels. I had done enough digging around researching the mercenary groups to know that only high-up guards had the adornment. I glanced up at the elevator and saw the numbers slowly blinking down from above. I put two and two together: Stefan, leader of Icestorm, was going to be escorted to the hangar on this floor. Stefan was real buddy-buddy with Streck, head of Curse, which meant…

I looked at over the Curse uniform and a grin crept onto my muzzle. Dismissing the gold lining, their high guard uniforms had blood red tassels on the sleeves. I hadn't noticed at first because of the abundant presence of real blood. I looked at the elevator numbers again. There wasn't enough time to move the bodies for a surprise attack and even if there was, I doubted I could find a janitor to mop up the blood. I slung my rifle, pulled out my pistol, and waited right in front of the elevator door.

It chimed pleasantly upon arrival. I noticed a black jaguar first…Stefan. Streck, a wolf I only knew from his file picture, stood beside him, but two other guards stole the spotlight as the most immediate threat. I took advantage of their shock to drop the two guards with two calm shots to the heads. Stefan reached for his pistol, but I pumped five shots into his chest before he could even aim. As he slumped against the elevator wall, Streck fell to his knees, his hands raised, his eyes bugged and wild with fear.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Don't shoot! I'm unarmed. See? I'm unarmed!"

I put a laser into his head and one more into his chest for good measure. The elevator chimed again and the door closed, hiding the four corpses. I reloaded my pistol, holstered it, and muttered to the dead mercenary, "Then you should've armed yourself."

I pushed the call button for the next elevator, which thankfully arrived empty, and hit the sub-basement level button. As it silently slid down, I put my hand to my headset and said, "Icestorm and Curse neutralized."

"Good timing," came Falco's static reply. "We freed and armed the Viper prisoners. Apparently, Tichon of the Bloodhounds, his guards, and pretty much the entire head staff of the Arcothans figured on taking them as hostages before escaping. We just had a goddamn war over here."

"Are the officers dead?"

"Yeah, they're fertilizer. These Viper chicks sure know how to fight."

"Good work. Continue to the generators."

ROB repeated the status over the frequency. "Four targets neutralized. Two targets remain."

The door slid open revealing the dank sub-levels that lacked the pristine military condition of the rest of the base. It reminded me of a giant boiler room like the one in the Academy dormitory so long ago. Worst of all, it was dead silent, not even a string attached to a tin can guarding the entrance. I slowly worked my way through the basement corridors until I reached an out-of-place thick metal security door marked "Generator B1." My keycard popped it right open. The generator, a large cubic machine with enough parts to make my head hurt trying to focus on it, sat at the end of the vast room, emitting a low hum. Someone stood before it, a tiger garbed in leather and bracers, flipping a knife in the air nonchalantly. As I inched forward, I noticed five more shadows against the walls, each holding a sword. I recognized them and their leader, Brigand, right off the bat: The Warriors, perhaps the oddest of the mercenaries. They pillaged space vessels like ancient pirates and used only old melee weapons. From what I'd heard, they were damn good with them. Worst of all, they also used a very secretive type of shielding that the Cornerian military had put into development. Basically, for laymen like me, they stick this little thing on their belt and a polarized field is emitted around them, able to repel up to ten or so energy-based shots. It was the only reason why their little pirate games were ever successful.

I lowered my rifle, no more than fifty feet between us. The weapon was useless anyway.

"I thought you'd come here, McCloud," Brigand said, still twiddling the knife in his hand. "I respect your courage in coming here. I wish to give you the chance to die with honor. Kneel before me and I will make it quick."

"We're mercenaries," I replied. "We don't have the luxury of honor. If you think you have any honor, you're crazier than you look."

"You can't win, McCloud. Your weapons won't affect me and even if they did, I could send this knife into your throat before you could pull the trigger. The Warriors you see before you are all who remain, my personal guard, sworn on their lives to protect me. We are all prepared to die to defeat you, our most worthy adversary ever."

"You think I don't know about your shields?" I let my rifle fall to the ground and unsheathed my knife. "You're not the only ones who know how to use ancient weaponry."

Brigand smiled. "I was hoping for an honorable, fair fight like this."

"I'm not here for honor. I'm here to kill you. Let history decide who the honor belongs to."

"Come then."

I held my knife firmly, our eyes locked. I knew him, I knew his type. He wouldn't throw until I made the first move. I breathed steadily, the hum of the generator the only sound in the crushingly tense room. With a sharp breath, I stepped forward, brought my arm back…and dropped the knife. What happened after that seemed to pass in slow motion. I fell onto my stomach and reached behind me for the holster at the small of my back. Brigand's knife split the air with amazing speed and accuracy, passing between my ears over my head as I fell. I hit the ground, clutched the grip of my old bullet-based pistol, aimed, and fired. I'd forgotten how loud bullet weapons were. The gun kicked with the acrid odor of cordite and Brigand recoiled, blood soaking his shirt. He looked down, surprised, and fell as I fired three more shots. He didn't get back up.

I hopped to my feet and brought my pistol to the ready, but his guards made no move to attack me. They didn't even exchange glances, only looked at their leader with flashes of dismay on their faces. Then, in a gesture that seemed shared by all, they unsheathed daggers from their belts, shoved them into their stomachs, and pulled up. It was painful just to watch. I wondered how a pirate like Brigand earned that kind of devotion, but I let it slide. For the good of us that would give our lives to a just cause, there are others who would give their lives for the opposite.

Whatever. Saved me five bullets.

I hurried to the generator, removed a charge from my back, and set it for remote detonation on the front of the generator. After the task was done, I let out a deep breath and put my hand to my headset. "Brigand of the Warriors is sown. My charge is set."

"Five targets neutralized," ROB confirmed. "One target remains."

"We're approaching the sub-level now," Andrea said, "but we have a problem. Pritchard got away. He's only got a couple of his Wraiths left, but they're heading for the hangar."

"So? ROB can blow him out of the sky."

"We dealt with the Wraiths when I was in Viper. Their ships have scramblers. That's how they got their name, they strike other ships before they even know they're being attacked. They're invisible to radar and can't be locked on to."

"Dammit. ROB, can you manually hit a ship that size?"

"Great Fox main gun intended for capital ships and immobile ground targets. Success unlikely."

I retrieved my rifle and ran for the elevator. Damn if I was going to let the mission go to pieces now. "Stick to your mission. Set your charge and meet back at the landing pad. I'll try to intercept him at the hangar."

"Got it."

The base was in complete chaos. Those mercs that hadn't tried to make a run for it were split up without any semblance of order or discipline. For all they knew, an entire army had attacked the base and they weren't as willing as Brigand to die for the cause. The few mercs that I came across were easy to put down with controlled firing. I sprinted to the west where the trail of Falco and Andrea's carnage was apparent. When I turned the corner leading to the hangar, I heard the whine of an engine starting up and pushed myself harder. I burst into the hangar and hopped to the side as two waiting Wraiths fired at me. Pure luck guided the lasers past me as I returned fire on the fly and dropped them. I had only enough time to glimpse Pritchard's face before the gray medium-fighter ship turned and lined up with the far exit for launch.

"No, dammit! Andrea, can anything take these shields down?"

"Uh…I don't know. Enough damage should short out the shield generator, just like any other fighter. I think."

I had run out of options and that was the only card left. I flicked my rifle to full auto and laid into the ship like there was no tomorrow. The shield shimmered with each hit but didn't drop. I dropped the rifle, pulled out my pistols, and fired until they too were dry. The engine roared and the thrusters flared. In a last desperate attempt, I picked up a rifle from one of the fallen wraiths and fired until my trigger finger ached. As the fighter boosted ahead, blasting me with heat, I saw the spark of a laser connecting with the hull. Hope filling my chest, I got on the comm.

"ROB, a Wraith ship just left the hangar. Can you target it?"

"Affirmative."

I watched as the thick yellow beams rained from heaven, blowing apart the fighter and sending the wreckage to the ground like a ton of bricks.

"Six targets neutralized. Zero remain. Mercenary threat eliminated."

I dropped into a sitting position on the metal ground and caught my breath. I watched the wreckage burn and the smoke rise to the sky. With ROB's words, it was over. The explosions caused by the generators would level the base and bury the remains of the hell that had haunted me since Pepper's first fateful warning what seemed like ages ago.

All I could do now was watch the sky and hope that Gage stopped Torqinski. But for me, it was over. The peace I had longed for and fought for was as sweet as I prayed it would be.

_-Chapter 18 coming soon- _


	18. The Fires of Venom

Author's note: And after so, so long, we come to the end of Mercenary Wars! Because of the length of time, I invite readers to look back over certain areas to become familiar again with Dagger, Peppy's coma, Arthur Torqinski's plan, things like that, if need be. Let me say that it's been a genuine pleasure to write this and I certainly hope you all enjoyed it as well. As always, thank you for your past and present feedback and for reading. -Foxmerc

  
CHAPTER 18  
The Fires of Venom  
_Black Scythe missile facility, Venom  
1402 hours_

The buggy bounced over the uneven desert road as we sped towards the missile facility. Almost the moment we left urban cover, long-range laser fire rained down on us and I was immediately thankful I decided to commandeer the buggy. Thanks to my drunken-style driving, they couldn't get a good bead on us. My comrades looked less pleased and probably would have braved the bombardment rather than drive another meter with me, had I given them the choice. I got us within a couple hundred yards intact. The facility loomed over us, half a dozen sky-high silos and a fortress-like base around them. For the first time that day, something worked in my favor. The large metal door I thought to be the entrance to the hangar turned out to be the entrance to the vehicle bay, much less thick than the rest of the base wall. I ran my hand over the dashboard to make sure the little explosive present Sergeant Tien left there was still secure. With 150 yards to go, I gunned the engine.

"Bail!" I shouted. My teammates hopped and rolled on the scorching sand. With 100 to go, I was the last one out, detonator clutched in my hand. I could practically see the defending soldiers' blank looks of surprise as the empty buggy sped towards them. I rolled and skidded to a stop, sand blurring my vision and stinging my nose. All I needed was my hearing. When the smash of metal on metal roared through the desert, I hit the red button. The explosion dwarfed the crash and disintegrated the little buggy, taking a chunk of the bay door with it.

"I don't think they appreciated my gift, sir," Tien said through coughs. The tiger cleared his throat of sand.

I wiped my eyes and looked around to make sure my team was all present. "Let's move before they mass again."

We hoofed it the rest of the way, carefully stepping through the abstract painting of fire, metal, and assorted dismembered parts. A couple soldiers thought they'd be clever and try to ambush us as we ducked through the busted bay door, but we wouldn't be much of a special forces team if boot camp tactics like that worked. We entered as one, swept the room, and dropped them before they could even get off a shot. Red lights swirled on the ceiling and an alarm blared over a generic announcement for all personnel to report to stations. If our timing was as planned, we would encounter a skeleton crew – most of Arthur's renegade soldiers were either in the city or below prepping the missiles. Even Arthur wouldn't have expected an attack like this.

One thing was for sure: Arthur would be here.

"Three minutes to the east wing where Control is," Ley reported. "From there, we can access the missiles."

"Got it," I replied. "Hart, behind me. Braddock, cover rear. Ley, Tien, sides."

I took point and moved the formation at a good pace down the corridors, checking each corner, my finger massaging the trigger, ready for a twitch reaction. But nothing came. After two minutes of nothing but alarms, flashing red lights, and emptiness, I almost wished someone would start shooting at me. My stomach tightened as I realized Arthur Torqinski had something up his sleeve. I should have known. Arthur was former Black Scythe and no enemy knew Dagger better than them.

"I don't like it, sir," Braddock grunted.

"Me either, Sergeant. Just stay cool."

No one behind me was fooled. No one for an instance thought, "Oh, good, easy mission." We all knew something was lurking out there.

I peeked around another corner and spotted the gleaming steel door labeled "Command and Control." Only problem was that it was a good job away through a large room packed with computer consoles and a huge viewscreen on one wall. Undoubtedly, missile command. Empty, of course. I inched forward until the corridor gave way to the room and poked my head in. The room was larger than I thought; two stories tall with a wide balcony loft up against the wall opposite the viewscreen. I didn't like it.

"Is there another way to Command?" I asked Ley.

She shook her head. "Not unless you want to go back outside and blow another hole somewhere."

I shook my head. "Stack up. Keep your eyes on that balcony."

I took it nice and easy along the viewscreen wall, keeping my footsteps quiet. When I was halfway through the room, I allowed myself a breath and dared to think that my fears might have been for nothing.

Then the lights went out. As if a rising storm, footsteps thundered across the metal floor from all sides.

"Night vision!" I shouted when the room plunged into pitch black darkness. I ducked behind the computer console I remembered being right next to me. Before I could get my set over my eyes, the light came back on with a quick hum and my breath caught in my throat. The room was slightly more crowded than it had been before. The balcony was lined with soldiers, all with their rifles pointed at us. Soldiers clogged the door we just came through. I counted at least three dozen probably with more standing by. My eyes settled over the balcony. Right in the middle stood Arthur, a pistol in his hand, his arms folded over a Black Scythe uniform. Just seeing it sure brought back some memories. The bastard looked right at me with a smug little smile.

"Gage," he said. "I thought you'd give me a challenge. Dagger's really grown lazy since the war."

I didn't let myself get drawn into his little game. I glanced around and saw that my team had taken cover behind the consoles during the darkness like me. Their weapons were shouldered and they aimed at the opposing army, but their chests rose and fell with admirably-repressed fear. I kept my iron sights right on Arthur.

"It's over, Arthur," I said. "The galaxy knows about your plan. Your mercenary army is being wiped out as we speak. This launch will accomplish nothing."

"Corneria is the hub of the galactic alliance, but it's always been weak. Without StarFox, it would have fallen during the war. My mercenaries will take care of Fox and this launch will do the rest. With half of their planets smoldering under mushroom clouds and their dear hero deceased, I won't even need an army to finish what Andross started. And now you've given me Dagger as well."

"We'll stop that launch, Torqinski, if we have to go through every grunt you can throw at us."

Arthur chuckled. "Come, Gage. I respect you as a talented adversary, you and your team. Put your weapons down and I'll let you leave this room as prisoners rather than corpses."

"Do I look like I would ever surrender to you, no matter how much of an advantage you think you have?

His smug look fell a little and he actually took a moment to look. "No…no, you don't. But don't mistake the situation. I don't just think I have the advantage. I do. You're a brave, stupid man, Gage, but if you care at all for the lives of your team members, you'll shove the candor aside and see reality."

I hesitated, the mission crumbling apart before me, turning into a massacre and galactic failure. I glanced to my team and caught Braddock's eye. Under the cover of the console, he patted his launcher and gripped the firing handle. I met his eyes again in agreement and looked back at Arthur. If my team was willing to stand with me to the death then I could do no less.

"Before you condemn your team," Arthur continued, "let me see if I guessed the situation right. Dagger always did love big bangs. So I'm guessing you plan on launching the missiles with the silo doors closed, thus destroying them and the base in one fell swoop. You'd give yourselves plenty of time to escape of course and your lovely infiltrator there would block all forms of override. Am I close?"

The smug look was back. I wanted to wipe it off his face permanently with my rifle. I said nothing, mostly because that exactly was our plan. He held up a black pad that looked like an explosives detonator.

"Even if you somehow manage to start the countdown and close the silo doors, I still have complete control. I can open and close the doors like flipping a kitchen light. You've lost, Captain Birse. This is your last chance to surrender."

I signaled Braddock behind the console. He didn't even hesitate; he raised the launcher to his shoulder as easily as a normal man raises a pistol and let fly with a blue energy burst. The left side of the balcony exploded, sending metal, soldiers, smoke, and lots of noise flying around the room. Dozens of guns fired at once, drowning out all other sounds. Lasers fell like rain, answered by the valiant returning fire of my team. I let looses towards the balcony, hoping to tag Arthur in the confusion, but I had to duck every couple seconds from the fire. More soldiers poured in to replace those we dropped. If we stayed any longer, we'd be killed. We had to brave the hail.

"Move to the command room!" I shouted into my comm, barely able to even hear myself.

Hart was closest to the door. The raccoon sprinted forward, lasers burning the air around him, opened the door and dove in. I shimmied to the console he used as cover and looked back.

"Braddock, move up!"

"Braddock's down, sir! I…I think he's dead."

I squinted through the smoke. Braddock lay on his back, launcher beside him, a pool of blood forming around his head. I gritted my teeth.

"Ley, move it!"

The lithe leopardess had no trouble moving from console to console, returning fire when she could. She took a deep breath and made the final run to the console I was behind when the odds caught up with her. I laser pelted her in the shoulder and she went down with a yelp, stumbling right into my arms. I pulled her behind cover and checked the wound; it didn't hit anything vital but probably hurt like a bitch. She sucked air through her teeth and muttered, "Damn, damn…I'm sorry."

"Stay calm. Don't move. Tien! Give us covering fire."

"On it, boss." The tiger dove and rolled behind Braddock's console and retrieved the launcher. Somehow I knew he'd go for the most explosive weapon. He loosed another round, blowing the balcony clear of its moorings and sending it crashing down in a cacophony of metal on metal. Our troubles weren't over; more troops entered from the doorway. I pulled Ley into the command room, where Hart fired through the doorway.

"Tien, come on!" Hart shouted.

The tiger didn't move immediately. He busied himself setting a charge on the console nearest him, a little surprise for pursuing enemies. He used the tactic all the time. When he was set, he prepared to run…but never got the chance. A stray laser pierced his ear, shaking him up and making him stand a bit too high. The barrage from the door cut him down, at least five lasers pounding his chest. My heart sank as I watched it, helpless. He fell to the ground, eyes swimming. With his last breath, he gathered his strength and slid the detonator across the floor to me. I picked it up and when I looked back at him, he lay lifeless. I hit the panel to close the door, sealing us off from the noise.

"Fuck!" I growled, pounding my fist against the door. That was all I allowed myself. I stowed the anger and turned to business at hand.

Ley was already back on her feet, tapping away at the large bank of computers. I could tell by her face that she was upset by the losses but was keeping at the job. Hart stayed calm as well. Good soldiers.

"Torqinski knew our plan," Hart said. "Fuckin' Black Scythe. He knew our playbook."

"Is what he said true?" I asked Ley. "Can he manually open the doors again?"

She nodded. "If he uploaded the codes to a separate device, it's possible. He prepared for it. He could bypass my override locks."

I let out a breath and thought for a moment. The firing had ceased but it wouldn't be long before they pursued. Luckily, there were two more doors exiting the command room. I checked my rifle and patted my vest. Plenty of ammo left.

"I'm going after Torqinski. He'll head for the hangar."

"How do you know?" Ley asked.

"He wants to live as ruler of the galaxy, not be a martyr. He won't hang around if there's danger; I know his type. He'll keep tabs on the silo doors from the sky. Close the doors, start the launch sequence, and make your way to LZ two. I'll meet you there."

Hart glanced at me. "What if you don't get to him in time?"

"I will." I handed him the detonator. "Use that if they start knocking. I'll see you at the LZ."

"Good luck, sir."

I was greeted by a blast of scorching hot wind as I passed through the hangar door. The hangar sprawled before me, large enough to accommodate half a dozen freighter ships. The enormous bay door was open, allowing in the desert wind. Shipping crates were stacked all around transports of varying classes. Only one ship caught my eye, a Vulture-class transport ship, roughly double the size of a dropship, with two large thruster engines and a back-end loading ramp. Footsteps descended the lowered ramp at the sound of the door. Torqinski appeared along with a couple soldiers. I stood in the open.

"Gage," he said, looking at me with an annoyed glare rather than his smug smirk. "How did you get here?"

"You don't know Dagger well enough if you think your grunts could stop me from getting to you."

He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted with two loud alarms followed by a monotone voice on the speakers.

_Launch Sequence activated. Missile preparations complete. Targets locked. Silo status not optimal; silo doors must be open. Fifteen minutes to launch._

"Thank you, Gage, you saved me the trouble of launching them myself." He removed the pad from his jacket and pushed the button.

_Silo status optimal; silo doors opening._

Torqinski grinned. "Kill him."

Like playing a video game on easy mode; I outdrew the two soldiers and dropped them with a quick burst to each chest. Arthur didn't think it would work, but it gave him time to get behind a container and fire at me with his pistol. I dove behind my own crate, dropped my rifle, and retrieved two grenades from my vest.

"You've lost, Gage!"

I broke cover and ran. Lasers licked my heels as I leapt off the top of a small crate and shoved and primed grenade into the ship's starboard thruster. The cylindrical engine exploded, showering the area with sparks and metal.

"What are you doing!"

"Making sure you stay and fight, you piece of shit!"

I used my free hand to fire back with my own pistol, but he was no easy target. I expected nothing less from a Black Scythe. He dove, rolled, and his shots came to close for comfort. I counted his shots and when he was ready to reload, I unsheathed my knife and charged him. He looked surprised and a well-placed slash at his arm sent the pad flying through the air and clattering to the hangar deck. I quickly primed my other grenade and tossed it into the port thruster. The explosion sent us both to the floor. With his ship in flames, heating me up even more than the desert, Arthur faced me with a stare of demonic hatred. I ignored him. I dove, grabbed the pad, and hit the button again.

_Silo status not optimal; silo doors closing._

A hard kick knocked the wind out of me and a painful kick to my hand sent the knife sliding along the floor. I hopped up to face him but was quickly knocked back down by a punch followed by a spinning kick.

"Didn't I teach you this lesson before, Gage? You can't win against me."

He picked up the pad.

_Operation aborted; silo doors opening._

I whipped my leg around, tripped him, and grabbed the pad myself.

_Operation aborted; silo doors closing._

By this time, anyone listening must have been confused as hell. Torq grabbed me by the neck, pulled me to my feet and landed a punch to my face. I lay on my back, disoriented and blinded by the pain of the immense punch. I blinked and saw that my blurry vision came from the burning thruster right above me. It crackled and sparked, groaning and teetering.

_Operation aborted; silo doors opening._

When my vision cleared, Torqinski stood over me, pad in one hand and knife in the other, apparently oblivious to the engine.

"You destroyed my ship," he growled. "I'm going to make your death slow and painful. I'll make you realize that Dagger could never stand up to Black Scythe."

Quick as lightning, I sat up, grabbed him by the jacket, and pulled him down to the ground right on top of me. Our eyes were inches apart and I glared fiercely as the engine creaked above us.

"Black Scythe never learned the first rule of combat," I seethed. "Always mind the battlefield."

Another cable snapped. I rolled out from under his weight as the engine broke loose of the ship and crashed down, crushing Torq under the metal and flame. I let out a breath and groaned in aching pain as I stood up. The bastard knew how to fight. Too bad he never sparred against hunks of flaming metal. I retrieved the pad from his protruding hand and hit the button one last time.

_Silo status not optimal; status doors closing._

With that, I tossed the pad into the fire. Then I relaxed my muscles for the first time all day. The empty, hot hangar seemed comforting. I allowed myself a moment of reflection, honoring those men who fell and what we had all accomplished here. I looked out the bay door into the sky and wondered if Fox had succeeded. If he had, then we both could live the rest of our lives proud of what we had done. Perhaps he found some satisfaction in living up to his father or proving the galaxy wrong.

Me…there would be no parades for me. And I didn't want any. I was just happy to join the hallowed ranks of the first Dagger team. As Fox carried on a legacy, so did I, and we proved that not even a mercenary army and threat of war could tear that apart.

With that thought, I turned to one of the other ships. I and my team would not be there when the base went up, taking the remnants of a terrible war with it.

**Prologue**

_Peppy,_

_If you're reading this then you finally woke up. You old guys, always sleeping late. Just kidding._

_I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you came around but I had to leave. The press, public demand, everything was getting to be too much and if I hung around any longer I'd never be able to disappear. To give you the quick rundown: there's nothing to worry about. Falco and Slippy can fill you in on the details. Most of the blacklist mercenary teams in the galaxy have been wiped out or disbanded._

_I know you may find it hard to trust Falco again…God knows I did. I wanted to kill him. But he's truly earned his way back in through his own blood. He can tell you all about it…just don't let him embellish the truth. You have good judgment, you can see for yourself._

_Gage may be stopping by to check up on you. I asked him to every now and then. Remember him, that crazy Dagger guy? He helped us out a lot and ultimately saved tons of lived, including mine. He may have a woman with him: Andrea. She's a friend and, as I'm sure she'll tell everyone, now a full member of Dagger. You'd never tell from the way he acts, but I think she and Gage like each other. Gage getting married…ha! I might just have to come back to see that._

_And about that…_

_I've gone away for awhile. I don't know for how long or even to where, so no one can find me. I had to get away. Surely you had a feeling like that at sometime. This whole mercenary war made me think and realize a lot of things and I need some time away to think about it all. Most of all, I'm feeling a little pissed at the galaxy right now. You know me, I never wanted big rewards and lots of recognition for my acts, but I sure as hell wanted trust and loyalty. I'm not going to rant, but I need some time away. Until then, you have command of StarFox. Call on Gage or Andrea if you ever need help and Falco and Slippy will still be there. As you helped my father once, I know I can trust in you now as well._

_If Gage stops by, tell him I said to take care and don't do anything too crazy._

_Until we meet again,  
Fox McCloud_

**_- The End -_ **


End file.
